Living Beyond
by Arianwen P.F. Everett
Summary: While visiting a space station, in what used to be the Delphic Expanse, to pick up some supplies, Archer and his crew run into a very unusual family, one with an intimate connection to T'Pol and Commander Tucker.
1. Chapter 1: Matayara

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'.

**Living Beyond**

Part 1

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Matayara finished setting her table, then changed her mind about the china pattern and reset it again. She was a nervous wreck, and the busywork helped her calm herself. On the surface her situation appeared commonplace, occurring throughout the galaxy for as long as women had lovers, who had parents. However, her situation wasn't so simple, when one considered that her lover of 84 years had supposedly never been born, and neither had his parents at the time her relationship with Lorian had began.

Before she could employ any of the Vulcan techniques which Lorian had taught her, she was already coughing up a storm, as her people did in times of sadness or pain. Both his parents had come from cultures that released salt water from the eyes, but sodium was rare on her home world, so crying never evolved as her body held no salt to expel. Funny, her considering Aplacian III her 'home world'. She'd been 7 months old when her parents had moved to Kotook station, and Aplacians didn't start laying down retrievable memories within their brains till 16 months of age. Kotook had always been her home. Kotook would likely be where her life ended, and she was perfectly fine with that.

Matayara remembered the first time she'd seen saltwater tears. It was the day she'd met Lorian. Those tears had been from a friend and fellow crewmember of his who had lost a parent several days before in a Kovalan raid. Her beloved had asked her for a napkin, or some sort of clean, water absorbing item, and she had handed him a tissue and watched as he'd compassionately talked his friend into calm, encouraging the saddened young man to live without sorrow, as his parents would have wanted. Several months later she would come to learn it was a lesson he'd been forced to accept at a mere 14 years of age, and for Aplacians, where lifespan often exceeded two and a half centuries, the idea of loosing a parent that young was staggering. Even the shorter lived human species his father had been a member of, believed a 14-year-old to still be a child.

Matayara's mind drifted to her youngest daughter, Jomala, who was only three years older than her father had been when he lost his father, and Matayara's coughing resumed. Jomala's worried her much these days. Her brilliance for engineering was making her a valuable asset on the station, but instead of assisting in repairing reputable vessels, she was working on ships owned by the Orion syndicate, for nearly twenty times the pay of a normal repair tech. She wanted to build her own starship, to fly away from Kotook station, and the necessary parts for completing her vessel were expensive. She had nearly been captured by the Orions for sale as a highly-skilled slave, twice, but with the exceptional physical strength she had inherited from her father, she had escaped in both instances. Matayara could only hope there wasn't a next time, or that her baby daughter would be equally lucky then, if there was.

Still, despite Jomala's troubles, at least her 4 daughters were still around. They could be shadows, lost to time as their father now was. She still had yet to figure out why they hadn't been, but no matter what, she was immensely grateful for their survival.

But she had always known that had been a possibility. Lorian had told her about how his ship had traversed time and was now starting a new mission to stop the very event that had brought them to the expanse in the first place, and ultimately brought him and their daughters, to her. While not traveled like he was, Matayara had been well educated via subspace correspondence, and she had inherited a passion for philosophical contemplation from her own mother. She'd studied time travel theory, and had known that once this time line reconnected with the first one, and events were altered from that point on, he and any offspring he'd have produced in the past could possibly disappear from existence. However, Matayara had known the moment she'd first seen Lorian comforting his friend, that he was the only man she wanted to spend her life with, she had reasoned that if this disappearance did one day take place, that the Matayara that had known and loved Lorian, along with anyone else who had been affected, even in the slightest, by the temporally misplaced Star Fleet vessel or her crews, would join them in the peaceful oblivion of nonexistence. A different Matayara might exist in her place, one who would never know Lorian, and thus would never feel his loss. Despite the uncertainty of existence for them, she had always known that not taking him as her mate, choosing not to live her life with him out of fear, would have been the only certain way for them both to end up miserable. And, in every way, Matayara had had a splendid life with Lorian, and had never questioned her initial decision to choose him, even now that he no longer existed, but by some factor she'd not accounted for in her studies of temporal theory, his daughters and all the memories she and her children carried, still did.

Matayara had been grieving for nearly a year, coughing almost nonstop since she had heard the news that one Enterprise, the one under Jonathan Archer's command, had survived the passage, while her beloved's had simply vanished, no trace of any debris or anomaly to give proof it had ever existed.

Then, just this morning, the Enterprise, commanded by Jonathan Archer had arrived at Kotook, seeking supplies the Engineering crew, needed. With the expanse no longer in existence, business on the station had increased over ten fold in the past six months. Enterprise was one of the new vessels to 'dock and restock', as she'd heard Jomala once name it. Matayara had quickly dressed, rushing to the trading levels to find the Enterprise's representative.

The minute she'd seen Jonathan Archer, part of her had known everything would be alright. She had known the other Archer for the last thirty years of his life and his knack for fixing problems had impressed her then, and gave her hope now. She had overheard her cousin, Dadocleese trying to charge Archer and his crewmen almost twice what the couplers at his stand were worth. She had publicly chastised Dadocleese, forcing him to sell the engineering tools at cost, with the argument that these people were 'family' and that the Aplacians people as a whole, owed them a lot for vanquishing the Spherebuilders whose infernal expanse had decimated Aplacian III's ecosystem, forcing the majority of her race from their planet to places like Kotook station. That had gotten Archer's attention, as Matayara had known it would. She then invited Archer to dinner, and requested he bring his first officer and chief engineer with him, which he agreed to, if she would assist him in purchasing the rest of his supplies, being 'family' and all. The man had thought the reference a private joke between them; he might have even believed she was flirting with him, but Matayara didn't care what he thought. What mattered was that Jonathan Archer was a miracle worker, as was his crew, and if anyone could help her poor Jomala, it would be him. After all, they had been Lorian's family. It was their duty to help.


	2. Chapter 2: Jomala

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. The Vulcan words that appear towards the end of this chapter come from the Vulcan Language Institute's website.

**Living Beyond**

Part 2

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Jomala fumed. Her second cousin, Dadocleese, had just informed her that her mother had invited an Earth male, by the name of Jonathan Archer, to dinner this night, along with two associates aboard his vessel. Dadocleese was, what she had once heard her a few members of her father's human crew refer to as a schmuck, but he had his uses, information and a bargain on replacements for her toolkit being the main ones. His wife also made sure her mother always got the pick of the bin at her fruit stand. In return Jomala fixed their appliances and kept them informed on the local gossip.

'Dollars for donuts', another human expression, courtesy of her father's crew, the two 'associates' were her grandparents. She remembered her grandmother, then had to check herself. This T'Pol would be younger, around the same age as her sister, Amitana. Amitana would likely be at dinner tonight, though she and her new husband had already taken to housekeeping three levels down from the quarters Jomala, her eldest sister, Maranda, and their mother shared.

Poor Maranda; she and Grandmother T'Pol had always been so close. Maranda had their mother's dedication to philosophy, and so had taken to studying the Vulcan way from a young age, even if she could not fully embrace it like a full Vulcan. Jomala bet her eldest sister would expect to board Enterprise and take after-meal tea with grandmother, as had been their custom for the last 70 years. A part of Jomala reveled in her goody-goody sister's upcoming disappointment, but she quickly checked herself. Maranda wasn't her enemy, and if things went to plan, Jomala would be leaving Kotook for solar systems unknown within three months, so she wanted to stay on her three sister's good sides till then. Besides, they were all part of father, the last part left to her. The idea of loosing any of them, of having another part of who she was ripped from her soul, was unbearable. She would even make the extra effort to catch up with Maranda on her daily rounds, as Kotook's Senior Constable, and make sure her sister knew of their impending dinner guests, and did not expect the same grandmother they had each known all their lives.

Still, there was the matter of how to approach dinner, and how to keep her mother off her back tonight. She knew her mother was displeased by her recent activities, but it wasn't like she was prostituting herself. She knew her clients were shady, all Orions were, but regular tech pay stunk. She'd still be on Kotook ten years hence if she started a repair tech's salary. She made more per ship than the head technician on the station, a man nearly two centuries old. Orions were scum made flesh, but they paid very well.

She wasn't fit to live the life of an Aplacian, staying in the same place forever. Her mother's people were homebodies. Leaving their planet had been the most gutwrenching saga in the history books Jomala had read as a child. To Aplacians, home was the basis of your identity, whether you were born on a space station or a planet, you stayed put unless something cataclysmic happened and you had no choice but to leave or die. Even then, a small number chose death. It wasn't exactly fear of the unknown, as she had read some species experienced, but a mere contentment, bordering on bliss to stay in your community. At least that was the way it was supposed to be, but Jomala had always been what the humans called a 'daddy's girl', and her 'daddy' had come from two exploration-happy species.

For as long as she could remember, Jomala had wanted to live aboard Enterprise and see all the universe had to offer, but her father had always bowed to her mother's wishes and made her stay on Kotook, living with their family two or three times a year, when Enterprise returned to the station for repairs and/or dock and restock. Her parents had had an agreement; when Jomala reached 18, which coincidentally was both the Human and Aplacian age of adulthood, she would be permitted to join his crew, if they still existed. They didn't, and now the only crew of the Enterprise was the one Jonathan Archer commanded, and only at the approval of Star Fleet.

Her father used to joke that the Enterprise was on a 117 year lease, and at the end of that time, all rights would revert back to Star Fleet and the government of Earth. The vessel she was building would be her own, one no planetary government, or any other power in the universe, could lay claim to or take from her. Her vessel would be her home, her community, like Kotook had been mother's and Enterprise had been father's. It all seemed so simple to Jomala, but it wasn't so simple to her mother.

Perhaps she would eat dinner on her ship. Mother did not have to know she knew they were having guests, and she'd taken meals on her ship before. While her warp engine was still waiting to be built and installs, most of her other systems were operational. So much so that she was already doing short impulse runs around the system. The warp core was gonna kill her financially, but it was the heart of the ship, and her warp engine would reach Warp 6.9. Her father and grandmother hadn't given her enough time to work out the kinks in her design when they had taken her work to Captain Archer to help him beat off the Kovalans and meet up with Degra on schedule without getting trapped in the past, so the probability of failure had been unacceptably high, over 22 upon exceeding warp 6. Since then, she had had a year to work on the problem. Her simulations now gave her a 98 probability of success. She would have the fastest ship in the galaxy when she finished constructing it in three months, and it, as well as the warp 6.9 engine, would be hers and no one else's. While a small part of her knew she was being petty, Jomala didn't care; her pain was still too raw. Her father had sacrificed everything of himself to save Earth. She'd be dmned if Earth got her engine too!

Determined now, she spun around, running full throttle into a Star Fleet crewman… or woman as the case may be. It was a bit jarring to see the uniform in real life. Her father had done away with such formality upon becoming Enterprise's captain, more out of a desire to conserve clothing and resources than any distain for protocol. "Sorry."

"Tu Vuhlkansu? (Are you Vulcan?)" Hoshi Sato asked, smiling at the teenaged girl with Vulcan-like pointed ears, dark, curly hair, and eyes that seemed the perfect mirror to her first officer.

"Goh yonuk. Tobeg-tor. (Only a quarter. Excuse me.)" Jomala hurriedly replied to the woman who she had seen in a few of her father's childhood photos, but whose name her anxious brain could not remember at this moment, before taking off in haste, back to her ship, the place she felt safest these days.

"Odd," Hoshi commented briefly, before brushing off the encounter and continuing her progress towards the lift that would take her to the clothing stalls.


	3. Chapter 3: Maranda

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'.

**Living Beyond**

Part 3

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

"We'd like to report stolen merchandise being sold aboard your station." Jonathan Archer stated to Kotook station's Senior Constable.

Maranda sighed with long practiced impatience, pulling out a data collection pad and a stylus from her desk. "Proceed."

Maranda wanted to be more sympathetic, after all, some of her closest friends since childhood had been this man's descendants, and heroic tales of Jonathan Archer that her father had sent her to sleep with in her youth, were permanently emblazoned in her memory and her heart. She missed her father and grandmother terribly.

Unbidden, a line from a book of Vulcan proverbs her grandmother had given her on her tenth birthday came to mind. 'Spill your pain upon the sand and rise anew to walk with reason.' With practiced ease, Maranda visualized the deck plating beneath her to being doused with all her sadness that took the form of water from a giant hose, like the monthly washing of the corridors on the trading levels of Kotook, the emotion-water seeped into every crevice in the cold steel that had always been beneath her feet, every twist and turn of the liquid as it moved away from her, brought with it more calm and control. The tingling in the back of her throat ceased, and she was finally able to look her father's childhood god in the face and listen to his story.

"We never traded any power relays with your people, yet somehow, relays with Enterprise serial numbers miraculously show up in the hands of some of your private engineers, one of whom, I might add, broke my crewman's jaw when he tried to take them from her!" Jonathan Archer recounted in agitation. He hated space station commerce!

Only Jomala would defend her tools and supplies so vigorously. Logical or not, Maranda was going to kill her sister as soon as Archer left her office and she could track her down. But first she had to deal with this situation. "And yet you're only filing charges of theft, not assault, Captain?"

Archer blushed slightly before conceding "Rustov didn't give her any warning, just grabbed. The kick looked more reflexive than intentional. My crewman learned his lesson. But that still leaves the matter of the relays, which…"

Archer's communicator beeped and he sighed before taking it out from his pocket and activating it. "Archer here. This had better be good."

"Captain, something screwy's going on here with those relays you had me search inventory for, you know to verify that they'd been stolen. They're not missing. They're still on Enterprise, and I mean _VISUALLY_ accounted for, serial numbers and all" Trip Tucker reported, the confusion in his voice evident.

What?! That's impossible! Serial numbers are burned into the titanium. The number is worth ten times the value of the part!" Archer replied, confusion and embarrassment at the Constable having overheard their conversation evident in his body language.

"I don't know what to tell ya, John; I'm starin' at the things right now! They are here," Tucker reiterated, unwittingly humiliating his captain more, in front of Kotook's constable.

Archer eyed the woman behind the desk, and soon found himself drawn to her eyes. They were the spitting image of T'Pol's, down to the bemusement he'd often seen over the breakfast table in his personal mess when she and Commander Tucker would verbally spar on any and all topics of conversation, but the rest of the girl's appearance looked nothing like T'Pol, from her tightly-pinned, golden, blonde hair to her unabashedly Aplacian, double-curved, ears. Still, those eyes mocked him, as if she understood perfectly well what was going on, but had decided to keep the truth to herself, very Vulcan from such an unVulcan looking woman.

Realizing his Chief Engineer was waiting for his next words, Archer sighed. "Understood. I'll get back to ya, Trip. Archer out."

Maranda merely stared at Jonathan Archer, waiting for his next words, which would hopefully involve dropping his charge. Archer held her eyes as well, reminded of the old Earth game of chicken. He lost.

"I know you know something," Archer fished, putting on his most charming smile as he spoke. He knew getting the woman on his side when closing the case was in her best interests, was a long shot, but he had to try. Otherwise, he was going to be completely alone in his investigation.

Maranda didn't reply. She didn't want to get into this now. It was her mother's place to tell Jonathan Archer, not hers. She knew her mother had invited the man to dinner, he would find out then, along with her grandparents. "I'll see you at dinner this evening, Captain."

"Dinner?" Archer asked, why did every woman he met on this station think he was having dinner with them? He felt obligated to the woman who had helped him with his shopping this morning, Matayara, but he had no clue as to what this woman was thinking.

"Yes, my mother invited you and two of your crewmates to dinner tonight. Please tell me you don't plan to stand us all up. My sisters and I would be heartbroken," Maranda toyed with Archer. She knew it was illogical, but it was also quite fun.

"Matayara's your mother. I didn't realize. Yes, yes, I will be coming to dinner tonight, as will my officers, you have my word," Archer grinned, kicking himself for not seeing the resemblance sooner.

"Splendid! I look forward to tonight," Maranda stated, and it was completely true, she was certainly looking forward to tonight. Archer was kind of cute, even if he was a short-lived being, and knowing what she knew of him, a real gentleman. She rarely had the pleasure of just talking with such a man, and perhaps once the fireworks had begun, and her grandparents, mother, and sisters were in the think of the storm, she could lure Archer away for a drink together.

As the Captain left her office in a state of confusion, Maranda made a mental note to leave work twenty minutes early, so she could pick up her jade dress from the cleaners. It really showed off her figure to best advantage, and she had the most gorgeous diamond-emerald choker to go with it.

Now, to track down her baby sister and string her up by her own power relays.


	4. Chapter 4: Phlox's Discovery

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. And in response to a question in a review I received, several episodes AFTER 'Home'.

**Living Beyond**

Part 4

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Phlox made his way through the live animals section of Kotook station, peeking into cages as he pushed through the crowd. So far he had only found a small rodent from Aplacian III that interested him. The little creature's droppings could theoretically be used to grow antibiotic cultures more efficiently, do to a unique enzyme in its digestive track. A few rudimentary scans of the Aplacians that ran the station showed they too carried the enzyme inside them. Perhaps he could convince a few of these people to permit him more detailed scans.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a Denobulan face across the station, and not just any face, a face of a colleague he had gone to medical school with, now a well known xenobiologist who, and third husband to a cousin of Phlox's second wife, Feezal. Smiling broadly, he bypassed several cages, making a mental note to return later, and made his way to his old friend. "Dakon, you old, boreal primate; I haven't seen you ages!"

Seeing the cage in Phloxes hand, Dakon chucked, "Still playing with lower creatures I see! Ah Phlox, you never change! Come, let me take you to lunch, we have so much to catch up on."

"Indeed, indeed. So tell me, what brings you to Kotook station, as if I couldn't already guess?" Phlox jibed, knowing his friends eager look. The man had a knack for locating and moving into multispecies'hotspots' before any other researcher got the chance. It was how he made his career, studying the biology of a local culture that had recently started seeing a massive in migration of alien species. Then all he had to do was sit back, collect data, and wait till his colleagues in xenobiology realized the research gem he had discovered months ahead of any of them, and came calling. Seeing patients

helped him gain trust from the local community, and offering free medical care to the poor, gave him a special fulfillment in his soul.

"Yes, I'll admit, Kotook's my latest find. The Aplacians are a very welcoming species, primarily interested in trade, but very mild, none of that take-no-prisoners attitude to commerce that you see in the Orions. However, they are unabashedly nepotistic in their work. They'll virtually 'give' you anything if you're related to them, but will not budge from market rates if you're not. They're no where near xenophobic; they even have several hybrids running about the station, but they don't permit formal marriage between an Aplacian and a member of another race. They'll mate with them, spend two centuries with that mate, even die with their mates, but at no time during all that can they and that mate open a joint checking account together," Dakon joked, losing himself in his thoughts for a brief moment, as they chose their table at the small café he had led Phlox to.

Phlox smiled at his friend's jest, and at the joy he could hear in the man seated across from them. Dakon tended to lean towards the psycho-social in his work, but that had always been a tenet to him. Phlox remembered long dorm room debates, with Dakon nearly ranting about how the cultural/psychological profile of a given species played a far greater role in their overall health and wellbeing than most of their fellow medical students gave it credit. Phlox had always been one of Dakon's advocates, and his current assignment aboard Enterprise had often brought to mind his trailblazing friend and his theories.

"And the offspring of these unions, what banking options do they have?" Phlox asked, his natural curiosity getting the better of him.

"Ah, that's a very interesting aspect of the whole thing! The Aplacians' legal traditions are matriarchal, and they're a double X species, so hybrid offspring are always female. These girls have full citizenship, although, truthfully, very few options for marriage. It's a subtle discrimination, but a real one. The young lady has a legal right to marry another Aplacian, but no mother wants her son married to a hybrid. Very few sons have the audacity to marry without their mother's consent," Dakon explaining the cultural nuances at work, stopping only to accept his meal from the waitress.

"And such prejudice towards interspecies couplings would result in protecting the Aplacian system of nepotism from too much outside influence. After all, complete freedom of marriage could entitle half the galaxy to 'family' discounts," Phlox surmised, taking his first bite of his lunch.

"I see we still read data the same way. It's funny we should be discussing this, as my nurse related to me a personal situation happening in her own family that illustrates this point perfectly, right before I decided to take my lunch break and found out you were on the station. Seems her 17-year-old little sister is some sort of engineering wiz, and has developed a Warp 6.9 engine. Their paternal grandparents, who recently arrived on Kotook station, come from two separate species, neither of which has yet to reach that level of warp capability. Right now, neither grandparent has any idea that their son fathered four daughters here, but the girls' mother has invited them both to dinner, along with their captain. Poor kid came rushing into my sickbay, nearly foaming at the mouth to speak with her sister, fears her 'life's work' is going to be stolen by her very own grandparents! She's 17, with a potential lifespan of over two and a half centuries! What does she know of 'life's work'?! Teenagers, they're the same in every species!" Dakon replied, digging into his pasta with gusto, absolute bemusement alighting his features at the cosmic joke that was adolescence.

Phlox however, completely lost his appetite as his mind suddenly went back to his recent conversation with Lieutenant Rostov this morning, after he had fixed the man's doubly broken jaw. Now all the pieces were starting to fall into place, and producing a very unsettling picture. The doubles of the coded power relays that had been believed stolen, and then had been found still aboard Enterprise, the level of damage to Ruston's jaw, which a Aplacian shouldn't be able to do with a single kick from a side angle, but a Vulcan, or as Phlox was not realizing, a 17-year-old hybrid individual with the superior leg strength of a Vulcan, would have no problem performing, and that dinner invitation that everyone aboard Enterprise knew Captain Archer, T'Pol, and Commander Tucker had accepted in exchange for getting all their equipment at near wholesale, it was all adding up, and the equation ended with one name, Lorian.

Obviously, despite his own disappearance while Archer and his crew were still seeking the Xindi in the expanse, his progeny had survived the temporal rearrangement and were residing on Kotook with their mother, a mother who according to his friend, planed to inform Commanders Tucker and T'Pol of her prior relationship with their son and introduce their granddaughters to them. Knowing the Commanders so well, Phlox knew he had to spare them from finding out over dinner, in front of Archer and depending on where the dinner was to take place, possibly in public as well. Considering Commander Tucker's natural highly emotional state, and T'Pol's Trellium induced one, not telling them could be personally disastrous, not to mention extremely humiliating, for the Vulcan.

He would even alert them to the teenager's fears over loosing her warp engine to them. His colleagues would probably go out of their way to allay her worries on that matter. They weren't thieves, and as professionals would likely respect her desire to keep her warp theory to herself.

As he rose from the table and excused himself to his very confused colleague, he realized he was just thankful that medical privilege didn't apply here, so nobody's privacy would be compromised. However, he couldn't waste a moment, as the grapevine aboard Enterprise had been specific. The meal was dinner, and that didn't leave him much time to track down the two busy Commanders and inform them of the news. Archer could find out if the Commanders decided to tell him. At least in relation to the Captain, privilege did apply.


	5. Chapter 5: Repair Work

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'.

**Living Beyond**

Part 5

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Jomala sat on top of the casing that would soon house her warp reactor, carefully welding the aft portion of the structure shut. The next item on her list of supplies was sealant. Not too expensive, but not dirt cheap either. Still, she had seen a case marketed 'sealant' being unloaded off the Star Fleet shuttle this afternoon, most likely for trade, so Jomala would be able to hit up her relatives for a bargain first thing tomorrow morning.

From her perch, atop the casing, she could look down onto the docking bay's fifth entrance, which her ship was closest too, and the moment she spotted her sister, Maranda approaching, looking seriously ticked off, she knew she was gonna get it.

"What were you thinking, kicking a Star Fleet officer in the face?! No, I don't want to hear it Jo! I know he accused you of theft and grabbed the relays you were working with, but kicking him in the face?! You're lucky Archer didn't kidnap you and throw you in his brig!" Maranda fumed, knowing she was going over the top on that one, but seriously upset with her sister.

"Well, I have always wanted to live on board Enterprise," Jomala quipped before she could stop herself.

Another bolt of anger surged through Maranda and she kicked the warp casing, the metal making a thunking sound.

"Watch it! That's my baby!" Jomala cried out. She knew Maranda was angry, but to kick her pride and joy like that was uncalled for!

"What, did that finally get your attention?! God, Jo, all you seem to care about these days is this stupid ship! You're not the only one hurting over what happened to father! We _ALL_ lost him!" Maranda howled, punching the casing this time, her fist turned sideways to better absorb the shock of the impact, without causing her pain. The pain in her heart was bad enough.

"What father? Our father ceased to exist? But it's not father that you miss, is it Mara? It's Grandmother T'Pol! Well, lucky, lucky day for you, cause mother invited her younger self to dinner tonight, so I guess you can run along now and do your Vulcan meditations, 'cause you've gotten her back! Congratulations! Now, get out; I'm busy working!" Jomala replied dejectedly.

"So am I! I'm senior constable on this station and when you go kicking visiting officers in the face, it makes Kotook station look unwelcoming and unsafe!" Maranda shouted back at her sister, who merely bowed her head as she resumed her welding.

"I promise, I'll try really hard not to kick any more visiting officers in the face from now on, but I'm not giving up my relays. Father gave them to me in trade for 2 grams of plasma coolant stabilizer. I had to go through 28 individual trades to get enough excess stabilizer. Took me nearly a month. Father was gonna help me install the relays when he got back from meeting with Captain Archer, but… well it doesn't matter now, right? What is it that Vulcan metaphysics philosopher you and Grandmother used to talk about said 'Nothing unreal exists'?"

"Kiri-kin-tha's First Law of Metaphysics," Maranda supplied, resting her arms and head against the warp casing.

"Yeah, that guy. The way I see it, Father and any promises he made for the future now fall into the 'unreal' category. Gotta do these things for ourselves now, which is why I'd really appreciate it if you would leave. I want to get this welding done and it requires my undivided attention, unless, ofcourse, you want me atomized in a warp core breach," Jomala stated plainly, suddenly feeling exhausted from this conversation.

"Give me a few hours to think about it. I'll give you my decision at dinner," Maranda quipped, trying to get a smile from her sister.

Jomala stuck her tongue out at Maranda, but as soon as the mischievous gesture was completed, her sad countenance returned. "You do that."

"See you later, Jo. And I meant it; don't even _THINK _about not showing up to dinner tonight! Mother's gone through too much trouble for anyone to be absent," Maranda insisted, finally moving away from the warp casing.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jomala replied, sighing with resignation. She would just focus on getting through it, bow out as soon as it was possible, or fake a bathroom break before desert, and return to her ship. If necessary, she'd go on another impulse run and finish as many of her remaining tasks as she could without a warp core, while circling the system. That would give her family enough time to cool off and her Grandparents and Archer enough time to leave with Enterprise.

A moment later, Jomala was finally alone again, and went back to work with renewed determination. Whatever happened, it was going to be a long night.


	6. Chapter 6: A Tale Worthy of a Tabloid

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'.

**Living Beyond**

Part 6

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Dr. Phlox sighed as he stood before the door to his Sickbay. He'd been lucky and both Commanders T'Pol and Tucker had returned to Enterprise already, in order to begin refitting the engines, with the tools and parts they'd acquired on Kotook.

Phlox had already known that Tucker would almost certainly be back onboard. The man had been almost giddy, as he'd watched the equipment being loaded onto the shuttle. Phlox remembered the Engineer telling him at his first physical, that installing brand new components into his beloved engines was like the first whiff of the very first pecan pie of the Holiday season, and how the anticipation of both the refit, as well as the confection, the night before, was torturously sweet. This usually uncomplicated man became a virtual poet over his work when he was 'in the zone', and Phlox had rarely seen the Commander more zoned than in the docking bay of Kotook this morning, T'Pol at his side, cataloging each crate and container as it was carried in. Remembering the satisfied air the Vulcan had exuded, as the final crate was successfully and efficiently loaded, gave Phlox a perfect visual image to the Earth expression 'two kids at Christmas'.

He could also imagine how they must have looked a few moments before he'd called them to meet him in Sickbay, if they were both already onboard and beginning the refit. Phlox was saddened that he had to go and ruin their mutual blissful day, particularly considering how few they'd each had since the Xindi probe had seared through Earth, killing 7 million, but he had no choice and little time.

Summoning up his professional detachment, the Denobulan stepped into Sickbay and nodded in greeting to the two waiting Commanders.

"I know that look. I know that look. I hate that look! Which one of us is dying, Doc?" Commander Tucker tried for glibness, his previous calm curiosity replaced with a knot in his belly.

"We are all dying; however, I must agree with Commander Tucker, your expression is unsettling. Perhaps it would be best for you to disclose whatever 'bad news' you have to deliver," T'Pol offered, attempting to get the Doctor to be more direct.

"Yeah, no hemming and hawing; just rip the bandage off, Doc. We can take it," Tucker added, hoping his statement wasn't just bravado.

"Alright. About an hour ago, I went to lunch with an old friend and colleague, currently working on Kotook. He told me some things that lead me to believe that during his 113 years of life, your son, Lorian had children with a woman on Kotook, children who somehow survived being temporally displaced when the second Enterprise vanished. Lorian's mate is the woman you two and the Captain are having dinner with this evening, and I also believe she plans to have all of your granddaughters in attendance as well, one of which is my colleague's nurse, another, the girl who broke Rustov's jaw earlier this morning," Phlox conceded, informing the two stunned senior officers bluntly as they had requested.

"My God," Trip Tucker stated, the picture of shock, as his mouth open and closed several times, as he stared dumbly at Phlox.

T'Pol remained silent several moments, collecting her thoughts, before speaking again "This information would explain the doubled power relays. Clearly the set the girl was working with were from Lor… her father's Enterprise, rather than our own."

"Time travel, it just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?" Tucker interjected morosely, finally coming out of his stupor.

Ignoring Tucker's comment, T'Pol decided she needed to get more control over this conversation before it could slip into emotional ramblings. "Thank you for apprising us of the situation, Doctor, however, I believe Commander Tucker and have a few more questions that…"

"Damn right we have more questions, like how is it even possible that Lorian no longer exists yet his kids do? And why do any of us even remember Lorian in the first place? And while we're at it, how can you be so sure that there are more than two of these kids running around and that they're are all girls?!" Trip shouted this last part, his voice having gone up in volume as his desperate confusion took him over.

"Trip, you must try to regain control. Elevating your voice in an accusatory manner will not assist you in finding answers the answers you seek," T'Pol insisted, seeing the young Engineer beginning to unravel before her eyes.

Phlox noted T'Pol's use of Commander Tucker's nickname, but decided to file that last bit of information for analysis later on. Right now, he needed to tend to the Commander's questions. "The only one of your questions I can definitively answer is the last one. Aplacians are a double X species, which means that both males and females have two X chromosomes in their 23rd pair. A child's sex in such species is determined by which genes are turned on, a specific configuration set for males, another for females. In Humans and Vulcans, the same happens, just the trigger is different, namely whether the father supplies an X or a Y contribution. The union of a member of a double X species with a member of an XX/XY species, _ALWAYS_ produces females. If the double X parent is male, he only produces X sperm; if the double X parent is female, her ova will only accept X sperm. In either situation, the female configuration would be activated and would thus produce a female. This could also be another reason Aplacians try to discourage marriage to other species, to head off a potential gender imbalance. I'll have to ask Dakon about that when I see him tomorrow. All things considered, double X reproduction is more efficient in some respects, as the gametes involved are usually healthier and produce healthier offspring."

"And a healthy baby is all that matters, at least where I come from. Just to be sure, they are healthy, right Doc?" Trip fished, feeling a little better, if he was correctly reading this genetics data, Phlox was saying his granddaughter were healthy, and in the end, that was all he really cared about. Granddaughters? God, that made him a grandpa! He was too young to be a grandpa! Damn the Spherebuilders!

"As he has never examined these young women, the Doctor can not logically address their health," T'Pol explained, herself desiring to know the state of her grandchildren, but not wanting to plant false hope in Trip. If her time in the Expanse was any indication, nothing could ever be certain in one's life.

However, I can say, with double X species, the odds are more in your granddaughter's favor, particularly when you're dealing with hybrids, and if Rustov's jaw is any indication, at least one of your granddaughters has strong, Vulcan leg musculature," Phlox explained with a touch of amusement.

"Young women? Exactly how old are these kids?" Trip asked, again reminded of a middle aged, salt-and-peppering son, three times his age.

"I know the youngest, the one involved in the altercation with Rustov, is 17 years of age. The others or even how many there are, I can't say. I know my colleague, Dakon, doesn't hire novice nurses to work for him, so that one would have to at least have a two decades of experience in nursing to have even been considered for the job. If Dakon has one character flaw it's that he's a fanatic to his theories, and he demands the same professional perfection in his employees that he does of himself, works them to an early grave actually. However, he acknowledges his own demanding nature and compensates them quite fairly, I assure you," Phlox explained, quickly, having seen a worried, protective look pass over the Chief Engineer's features, which in Phlox' mind was odd, considering how hard the young human pushed himself professionally. Neither of his two colleagues standing before him got enough rest or recreation, and in Tucker's case, nutritional self-care was somewhat deficient as well. That was his medical diagnoses, not merely opinions. Why should they be so shocked at the same behavior in one of their progeny?

"Oh man, a mean kicking, 17-year-old, and a nurse who, dollars to donuts, is older than myself, both fathered by my 113-year-old, half-Vulcan son who shot me with a phaser, before rushing off to get himself caught up in a temporal paradox! My life's become the ultimate tabloid story! No wonder that Daniels guy never could look me in the eye! Oh man!" Trip Tucker bemoaned, chuckling on the verge of madly, trying desperately to take it all in.


	7. Chapter 7: Amitana

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'.

**Living Beyond**

Part 7

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Amitana sat down at her mother's table and lazily picked at the lukel fruit slices on the serving tray. Her mother always put out 4 serving trays, one for her and her sisters, before the guests arrived, as she knew keeping her four daughters' fingers off the fruit was a waste of energy, particularly when she was to be hostess at a dinner party and had so much else to do. Considering the guest list, her mother's stress levels were likely through the roof, but Amitana also knew her mother loved hosting dinner parties, and that the work would take her mind off her still raw grief.

While her three other sisters had always disliked dinner parties, preferring the less formal 'movie nights' on Father's ship, some of Amitana's most cherished childhood memories were of dressing up and imagining herself in the role of hostess. Every time Father had returned with his crew, his senior staff always came to dinner that first night. She could distinctly remember her mother, dressed to the nines, her long, curly black hair spilling around her shoulders and all the way down to her lower back, a gorgeous dinner gown sparkling in time with her jewelry and rich, brown eyes, her melodious voice speaking so confidently with all Father's Officers. Looking back, Amitana could see her parents hadn't been dripping in diamonds, but for some strange reason, back then, it had always felt like they were as wealthy as kings. To this day she couldn't understand it, but it had left an impression on her.

Realizing she would have to finance this good life she wanted and had somehow envisioned her parents as having, Amitana decided to enter trade as most Aplacians did, ultimately aspiring to have her own stall on the Commerce levels, maybe even her own shop some day. She had an eye for quality and fashion, and was quick to get the angle on any buyer, or anyone looking to trade in beautiful things. She found it relatively simple to get the best deals, mainly because she'd learned very early that people made business decisions based on emotion more than reason, and Amitana was able to read the emotions of others, just as her father, grandmother, and sisters were, any time she shook a hand. Surface feelings would come through to her, if not the why or what for of the situation, and she soon learned that if you knew what an individual was feeling, you could maneuver those feelings to your own advantage. It had taken her years to learn to focus her gifts, not let her own emotions get in the way, or let someone else touching her at the same moment confuse her, but she had perfected her technique through trial and error, and they served her well.

Now she owned a very successful fabric and dress shop, with a smaller stall next door to sell perfumes, jewelry, and beauty aids to female visitors to the station. At first, her stall had been of modest size, but the excitement reeking from the early new arrivals, after the expanse had receded, had convinced her to dump her entire 54 years of savings into a much larger venue and take the additional stall. It had been a fabulous decision. As of last month she had recouped her savings, and Kotook's primary newspaper had rated her shop the best value in women's apparel to be had on Kotook. Business was booming, and she was greatful. It took her mind off her sadness, gave her focus, and had permitted her to marry her husband, Talnuse, a good man, a hard worker, and an orphan, who had no mother to complain about her being a hybrid.

Still, no matter how she framed it, she knew she didn't yet love him as a wife was supposed to love her husband. She cared for him immensely. They had been inseparable since they were 12-years-old. He'd helped her start her business, been there through the fire that had nearly put her under, and kept her together after her father's death. He was loyal, dependable, handsome, but still she felt no passion for him. She would continue trying, but part of her suspected she'd been spoiled in her parents relationship and the romantic stories of both sets of grandparents.

Her parents had always been one unit. They were so different in heritage and appearance, but eerily similar in temperament and outlook. Despite three separate cultures between them, they always had the same ideas for their kids and their home. It was like they were one person in two bodies, and yet those bodies couldn't be more different. Despite their many years together, they spent only a few weeks a year living as a couple. The rest of the time, Father lived on Enterprise; Kotook was mother's home; and yet, when they were together, they had this air about them, like that soulmate concept her human friends aboard Father's ship spoke about. Rationally, it sounded completely ridiculous, unless you lived with two people who were soulmates.

When she'd learned about her father's death, her mother had been the immediate focus of her worry and grief, but then, Amitana wasn't still a child, like Jomala. She had lived on her own for over a decade. Her love for her parents had been the love of an adult daughter, a deep, friendly affection and sense of connectedness. Her parents were the other halves of each other, not parts of her. Amitana had barely been able to hold it together in her mother's grief. She greatly missed her father, and the thought that she would never be able to run out to the docking bay and greet him again, stung deeply, but her nightmares were more of her mother's pain, not her father's demise.

Her mother's parents, Valetta and Rindiro, would be married 145 years next year, and they still sought each other out to share lunch each day. Amitana had always been amazed at how devoted they were to each other. They ran their own non-Aplacian foods stand, and unlike Amitana's parents, were together constantly, nearly every moment of every day. They never grew bored of each other and rarely fought, despite their constant togetherness. Amitana had to wonder whether she and Talnuse would still be so comfortable in 145 years. Despite her attempts to be optimistic, the thought brought her mood even lower. He was her best friend, but her heart would not call him the love of her life.

As for her father's parents, Amitana had no idea what to expect tonight. Some of her earliest memories were the fairytales she'd heard about her father's father and his friends aboard Enterprise, but otherwise Trip Tucker was a complete unknown, and she and Grandmother T'Pol had never been very close. The Grandmother T'Pol that had been erased from existence aboard her son's Enterprise had outspokenly abhorred Amitana's use of her empathic skill for commerce, claiming ancient Vulcans did this in the days before Surak, and the practice was viewed as being one of many ills of that era that nearly destroyed the Vulcan people, over 2000 years before Amitana was even born. She never missed an opportunity to let Amitana understand how she felt on the matter, and despite Father's multiple attempts to smooth things over between his daughter and his mother, there had been nothing but cold words between them.

What upset Amitana most about her grandmother's distain was that she'd never even asked her granddaughter why she was the way she was, why she made the choices she made, she just declared that Amitana's empathic abilities were from Vulcan and expected Amitana only use them in ways sanctioned by Vulcans. One movie night, about 20 years ago, Amitana had viewed a biographical film about a human musician from 20th century Earth, who had lived an undisciplined life by the standards of his age. The musician's cousin, a religious figure of the day, put forth the idea that a god-given talent should be used for the glory of god, to which the musician replied, he believed that a god-given talent should be used for the glory of the talented. At that very moment, in that darkened mess hall aboard Enterprise, their eyes had locked at that moment, and Amitana had decided then and there to cut her ties with Grandmother T'Pol as much as possible in Aplacian society, and Grandmother seemed to accept that, never seeking Amitana out again, or directly addressing her till the day her son's ship left Kotook for the very last time to seek Jonathan Archer.

Suddenly, a slight tingling in the back of her mind alerted Amitana to the fact that Grandmother T'Pol was near, and coming nearer. Standing up, Amitana took her fruit tray to the kitchen, as her mother always insisted when guests started to arrive, and steadied herself. Tonight she would attempt courtesy with Grandmother T'Pol, for her father's sake. He had wanted them to reconcile so badly, and he had died knowing all his attempts at bringing that reconciliation had failed. Tonight she would at least try not to upset either of her grandparents. Perhaps this T'Pol would understand her better in time, but for tonight, civility was all Amitana could promise. "For Father."


	8. Chapter 8: Finding Strength

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. And in response to a question in a review I received, several episodes AFTER 'Home'.

**Living Beyond**

Part 8

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Jonathan Archer coughed, trying to clear from his lungs the spicy tea he'd been trying to drink, before his first officer had and chief engineer had sprung this news on him. "Lorian's daughters, are you sure?"

"After Doctor Phlox informed us of his strong suspicions, I uploaded the records we'd received from the other Enterprise. Lorian did indeed have a wife named Matayara, species Aplacian, whom he married on aboard Enterprise on Stardate…"

"Okay, okay, you're sure," Archer cut off his first officer, not needing to hear the rest. Lorian's temporal erasure had hit him hard and the man hadn't even been his son. Still, he had been the one who his other self had entrusted with the mission, as well as command of Enterprise, and the way Lorian had spoken with him from the brig led him to understand that when the other Trip Tucker had passed, he'd taken over as a father figure to the boy, and made him a son, if not by blood, than by love. He had a suspicion that Lorian would be the proverbial white elephant in the room tonight, each one of them thinking solely of him, but nobody having the guts to even mention his name.

"Captain, traversing the distance between this level and the residence of our hosts will take approximately 10 minutes. We must leave within the next 4 point 2 minutes if we wish to arrive on time," T'Pol informed, her Vulcan features perfectly controlled as she spoke, yet Archer knew T'Pol well enough to know it was all an act, a meditative facade meant to prevent the humiliation of emotional display. Still, her ability impressed him.

"You're right, just let me use the bathroom and we'll go," Archer stated, as he left the table.

"So, what's our plan?" Trip asked as soon as John was out of earshot.

"Plan?" T'Pol asked, not sure what the human meant. They were required to attend Matayara's dinner. Logic required them to meet and attempt to form a relationship with their son's mate and offspring.

"I mean for tonight? How are we going to get through this?" Trip asked, not sure he had the strength.

When he'd learned of Lizzie's death, he'd gone cold with rage, then, over time, was lulled back to life with the care of his friends, and his deepening relationship with T'Pol. But as Enterprise continued through the expanse, the death toll grew, and then, when he'd finally let go of Lizzie, a comforting numbness had suffused his soul. So by the time Lorian had come into his life, then just as suddenly ceased to exist, Trip had learned to steal himself against the pain of loss, allowing him to deal with the cruel reality of his son's end, without falling apart. Trip had compartmentalized Lorian as a fallen comrade, not a beloved son, in order to go on, to continue fighting the good fight, to give so many fallen comrades' deaths meaning.

Now he had to look his son's widow and children in the eye, had to live through their grief, and with Earth and the rest of the galaxy safe from the Spherebuilders, to face his own losses again. What comfort was there for him or these women that Earth had been saved? It didn't bring back the dead. In Lorian's case, there wasn't even a body, just a theoretical paradox.

T'Pol considered Commander Tucker's questions, still not understanding what he wanted her to say. "The need to forge a relationship with our grandchildren is of utmost importance. They must know who we are and what values we hold. While I am reasonably certain Lorian would have given them appropriate information in this regard, there was likely much he, himself lacked understanding of, due to his unorthodox upbringing, and with the additional changes on both Earth and Vulcan since we were last in the Expanse, we must..."

"These girls lost their father, T'Pol! They're doubtlessly in a lot of pain, and if we don't approach this right, we could wind up adding to their suffering. Sharing our values and autobiographies isn't likely to help them any! We need better. I just wish I knew what better was," Trip cut in, not wanting to hear any more of her proper Vulcan answers. This was their lives, not an example in a textbook

"As do I," T'Pol answered in a near whisper. Trip Tucker looked deep into her eyes, seeing his own confusion mirrored there, and somehow he drew strength from the knowledge that she wasn't so sure about how to get through tonight either. He took her hand in his, hoping to return the extra strength to her. They had always worked well as a team, even back when each would rather have swallowed glass than do so.

"It must be harder for you in a way. I can start fresh with them, as can the Captain. They must have known you, the other T'Pol, all their lives. They'll be expecting her, just in a younger body," Trip stated, realizing their places weren't equal after all. Her burden would be harder, living up to the woman who had had a 117 year jump on her in the family and wisdom departments.

"I admit that thought has occurred to me, however such an expectation on their parts would be unreasonable, and I can not be held responsible for their disappointment," T'Pol defended herself. Logic told her that living up to another's expectations was a rode to ruination.

T'Pol's relationship with Commander Tucker exemplified that conflict within her perfectly, although, with recent events on Vulcan and the discovery of the Kir'Shara, T'Pol had found herself completely confused over whose unreasonable expectations were at play in her life. Her own people had lied to her, used her, and left her for dead from a fake disease. On the other hand, having touched his mind during their sole sexual encounter, T'Pol knew Commander Tucker had what she had heard other humans refer to as 'white picket fence fantasies' in regard to the progression of their relationship, expectations that were just as illogical and ignorant of who she truly was, as what the Vulcan High Command had wanted to shape her into or use her as a shamed example of.

Her decision to pull away from both attempts to mold her, in order to forge her own self anew, had been the most logical choice of her life. If there had been one mitigating factor towards Commander Tucker and away from Vulcan, it was in that Trip's desires came from deep affection and a true lack of understanding, not repeated, malicious attempts at control of her mind and person. Still, both the Vulcan High Command and Charles Tucker III had each in their own way been working under false assumptions of who T'Pol was, and until she figured out who she was herself, she would permit neither to sway her judgment, nor would she permit her granddaughters or their mother to do so tonight, with their expectations.

"Ofcourse they're unreasonable. This is family. Humans are notorious for misunderstanding family, and forgive me, Darlin', but considering the tension I saw between you and your mother when I visited Vulcan, I have a feeling Vulcans sometimes do as well. We need family to fulfill certain functions in our lives, and we make up things when the reality we see is not to our liking. But these girls are _OUR_ family, T'Pol; at the end of the day, they're part of the both of us," Trip resolutely stated, finally feeling better. These women he'd meet tonight bound him and T'Pol forever. No matter how things turned out for them romantically, she was in his life in one way or another, for the remainder. That idea quickened his heart, his happiness nearly radiating from him. Taking his other hand, he cupped the hand he had held through most of their conversation between both of his, again letting his eyes hold hers, this time letting his unabashed love for her wash through him, as if he was sending it straight to her.

As Jonathan Archer returned form the men's room, having been forced to endure a massive line, just to use the facilities, he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight he returned to. His two senior officers were sitting at his table, hunched over towards each other, holding hands, and despite the lack of even the tiniest hint of sexual desire, looking completely and totally entranced with one other.


	9. Chapter 9: Supper Time I

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'.

**Living Beyond**

Part 9A

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Matayara smiled at the sight of her four daughters, all dressed for dinner, each of them a true beauty in her own right. She couldn't help but giggle at Jomala, as she tugged at her simple black dress, trying to cover more of her feminine curves than the dress would permit her too. "Jo, if you wanted a dress that completely hid the fact that you were female, you shouldn't have ransacked Amitana's closet for one."

"Spend perfectly good parts money on something so trivial as clothing! Mother, have you lost your mind?!" Amitana gasped in mock horror, earning her a quick smile from her baby sister. Amitana had always defended Jomala, since she was a small child. They were kindred spirits, even if their passions were so radically different, each driven to utterly dominate their particular field, unlike Maranda and Balasara, who had far less personal ambition, and only sought to serve their community by being the best constable and nurse they could be.

Before Matayara could reply, the buzzer to her home rang, and her stomach clenched in apprehension. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she fully allowed her long- perfected role as hostess to overtake her. Then patting each of her daughters briefly, to sooth their nerves, Matayara smoothly crossed the room and opened her door, as if the guests she were greeting were merely long time friends who visited regularly, rather than complicated family members that none of them truly knew. Their mother's self possession and control awed her daughters yet again, as it always had.

"Captain Archer, it's good to see you again. Welcome to my home," Matayara greeted, shaking hands with the man who had been willing to marry her and Lorian when her own people would not. He had cared for her mate after his own father's death, and then brought him into her life, eight decades ago. In any incarnation, Jonathan Archer would be welcome in her home, any time he chose to visit.

Moving on, Matayara braced herself, then forced her eyes to lift to her mate's parents, her In Laws, by Earth terminology, Second Parents by Aplacian. "Second Mother, Second Father, welcome to my home."

"Thank you, Daughter, for your hospitality this evening," T'Pol replied evenly with the words her earlier research had informed her were the appropriate response in Aplacian culture.

"Then you know," Matayara deduced, seeing understanding and mutual hesitancy in both their eyes.

"About your havin' been Lorian's wife, yeah, we know. We found your name and the names of his… your daughters in the other Enterprise's database. I'm very sorry for your loss, I…" Trip Tucker struggled, trying to find the right words. All he could come up with were standard condolences and his tension over the evening returned.

"Have a horderve. They're vegetarian," Jomala informed, shoving a tray into her grandfather's face to cut off his train of thought. Hearing her father's name again had felt like a boot slamming into her chest, and she knew she needed to gain control of the situation. She didn't want to talk about her father or hear about her father. Her father was gone; he was not coming back. She just wanted to do her duty to her mother, grandfather, and Captain Archer, and return to her ship.

"Thanks," Trip replied as he took an orange piece of fruit on a small biscuit-like item, feeling like an ass already. Obviously he'd managed to stir up the hornets nest already, judging by the way his son's wife and elder daughters were glaring at the youngest one in the black dress, the one who beat up Rostov with her Vulcan leg musculature. He noticed her ears were Vulcan, although they reminded him more of T'Pol's mother, T'Les, and her eyes were perfect replicas of T'Pol's.

"You're welcome. Also, the biss quiches, the green ones, are a bit spicy, just so you know," Jomala answered, staring back at her family. She would not be cow towed into a pity party. She would be civil attempt small talk and light conversation, like a regular dinner party was supposed to be. She was moving on with her life, and Aplacian life included plenty of dinner parties.

"Much obliged. So, I hear you're an engineer?" Trip tried again. Obviously the girl wanted to keep the dinner conversation light. He could start there.

"Yes. I'm building my own ship. It's not huge like Enterprise, but it's only meant to carry a maximum of ten passengers," Jomala explained, happy to discuss her baby, after such a rocky start.

"And it has a warp 6.9 engine?" T'Pol asked, curious to see if the girl actually had created such a device.

"Yes. The engine is actually the simpler part of the equation. It's making a ship able to hold together at that speed that's the hard part. My theories were cruder a year ago," Jomala explained, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Next they would ask for her design schematics and she would have to hand them over. Her mother would make sure of that. Then they would go traipsing back to Earth with her prize and she'd spend the next ten years lucky if she could scrape together enough to eat between star systems, either that or repairing other people's ships and living with her mother.

Her engine and ship modifications were supposed to have been her pay day. Sold to the highest bidder, and _ONLY_ the highest bidder, they would have provided quite nicely for her, as she explored the universe, without having to work at any other profession, seeing all she could see. She didn't want to drag cargo back and forth nor did she wish to join Star Fleet and take orders for decades on end, till someone else decided she was good enough for command. She had done the work on her ship, and she had been just a few months away from testing it all out. She wasn't taking a crew. She figured she'd pick one up along the way, as she met new people.

Now it would all be for naught, but then, so was the larger plan, the plan she and her father had been working on when she stumbled on the secret to Warp 6.9. What was the point of a ship that could hold 1000 people if there was only one person to man it?

"The modifications Lorian gave us last year, they were yours, weren't they?" Archer broke through Jomala's thoughts, angering her with his intrusion. She had briefly lost herself in a happier time, the smile her father had given her when she'd shown him her calculations, over a plate of Ikarran fries and Lendrell soda, just her and father shooting theory and numbers back and forth.

"Yeah, but it doesn't matter. I'm sure we're all hungry; let's eat," Jomala said wearily, walking to the table and sitting down in her seat, retreating into herself.

"Please excuse my daughter, Jomala, Captain. She and Lorian were so close, and with her age, well, his loss… it's been roughest on her," Matayara stated, before a coughing fit overtook her, and she quickly dashed into the kitchen, leaving her daughters to entertain their guests.


	10. Chapter 10: Supper Time II

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. Alright, I caved. This part officially drags the story into AU territory, but only in so much as Commander Tucker isn't meant to die in 'These Are the Voyages'. Other than that, I'm not going any further into AU.

**Living Beyond**

Part 9B

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

"No, no, Captain. It'll be fine, really. Mother's not ill, it's just that Aplacians don't tear when upset, they cough. She'd be extremely embarrassed if you went charging after her. Please, Captain, sit, have a horderve, relax," Maranda insisted, not wanting her mother further embarrassed.

Part of her wanted to kill Jomala, but another part of her knew it wasn't her sister's fault. She was trying. She could have just run out of their quarters, guests or no, but she didn't. She attempted to abruptly change everyone's focus, and remained, when Maranda knew, every instinct in the girl was telling her to run.

"Alright," Archer replied, a bit overwhelmed by the action. Slowly, he lowered himself onto the hardwood… pillow?

Suddenly disoriented by the wooden chair transforming into a very soft couch cushion, Archer looked around, noticing he was no longer on a space station, but an apartment on Earth, near San Francisco. "Daniels!"

"Ah, welcome to _MY_ home, Jonathan," the mischievous Temporal Agent greeted, coming into his living room.

"I thought I told you never to bother me or my crew again. What do you want of me this time," Jonathan Archer asked wearily, knowing fighting a man from nearly a millennia ahead of you, was probably useless.

"I'm not here for you, Jonathan; I'm here about the girl, Jomala. It wasn't until I saw you entering her mother's quarters with T'Pol and Tucker, that I even knew you were on Kotook. This particular area of the timeline is somewhat… delicate, a bit unpredictable, even for me," Daniels explained, almost apologetically. But Archer knew he must be imagining it, as Daniels never apologized, no matter the hell he put Enterprise through.

"They're loose ends to you aren't they? Lorian and his crew weren't even supposed to exist. You made sure of that when my Enterprise made it through the corridor without getting shot back through time. Now, like some mythical grim reaper, you're here to collect his children, who escaped being erased from existence. Well I won't let you! Temporally alter one hair on any of their heads and I swear the next phaser I find will be set to kill and shoved down my own throat! From what you've told me over the years, that equates to bye, bye Federation!" Jonathan Archer railed. He wouldn't let Lorian's children be sacrificed to some temporal directive. They were his legacy and he, like all the fallen heroes of the Xindi war, deserved a legacy.

"Relax, Captain. I'm not here to harm Jomala or her sisters. Who do you think saw to it that they continued to exist after time reset itself and their father was… misplaced. If you must know, my mission is to protect Jomala, not harm her," Daniels explained defensively. Archer was a brilliant man, but a brilliant man who had been through a lot the past few years of his life. They all had. The old Earth axiom held true, even in the 31st century; war, even a temporal one, was hell.

"Protect her? Protect her from what? I thought you said the Temporal Cold War was over, that the good guys won? What's going on here?" Archer queried in frustration. He was sick of this man, and truly wanted him gone from his life. Maybe, if he helped him out here, this time it would stick.

"In the late 24th century, another Captain of the Enterprise will tell his first officer that his life was like a tapestry, filled with incorrect stitches and many mistakes in the weave, and yet, when he had briefly gone back in time and tried to pull on one, it unraveled the entire tapestry of his entire life. What he didn't realize was that his metaphor could easily be applied to Star Fleet's history as well. The reason I've visited you and not others within your time, has been because you and a handful of others like you, are like those unruly threads in Star Fleet's tapestry. Jomala is another," Daniels admitted, again hating his having to give Archer addition future knowledge. Still, Daniel's superiors had authorized it, so he reached into his pocket, pulled out a data pad, and handed it to Archer.

Captain Archer stared down at the photo, his breath catching in his throat as he thoroughly examined it. There, looking older than Methuselah, stood Trip Tucker, hugging a thirty-something looking Jomala, champagne glasses in both their hands, one wearing a smile of accomplishment, the other of grandfatherly pride, both in what appeared to be Star Fleet dress uniforms. His eyes lowered to the caption and understanding dawned, forcing him to read aloud "Jomala Tucker, with grandfather and former Chief Engineer of Enterprise NX-01, Charles Tucker III, christen USS Enterprise NCC-1701 at the The San Francisco Navy Yards"

"The ship itself is an integral part of my history, Captain. However, Jomala's greater contribution is a sustainable, Warp 9.9, engine. For the next two centuries, it would be the standard for Star Fleet vessels of exploration. We've run multiple analyses. Without her, it just won't come to be. The crew of what you refer to as the Second Enterprise were a serious danger to the timeline; their progeny would have shifted history irrevocably. As a result, we were forced to allow time to naturally prune them. But Jomala Tucker must endure, and her sisters posed no threat, so we… immunized them from the effects of the temporal displacement. A consequence of the immunization was the retention of your memories, in addition to all others who knew of the Second Enterprise and her crew. That couldn't be helped, but in the long run, did no permanent damage to history," Daniels concluded. He knew this was hard for Archer to hear. It was hard for him to say. Empathy was a handicap in his line of work, but as far as he could see, that particular trait was unlikely to be bread out of the species anytime soon.

"So, what exactly is the danger to Jomala that you are so concerned about?" Archer asked, bile in his throat. Lorian and Karyn and their ship had touched him deeply. To realize that the descendents of Earth, among them Daniels, had forgotten their sacrificing and permitted the laws of physics to 'prune' them, made him want to heave. But he had no control over that. If he could protect Lorian's daughter, who remembered them all, perhaps, in some small way, he could pay the homage that neither the future Federation, or his own Star Fleet Command, who wanted to keep time travel under wraps from the general public, would give them.

"The danger is Jomala herself. She's on a path of self destruction. We've run several simulations on her, and they all predict her premature death, some setting her demise in as little as 2 years from when you left, some giving her 27 more years of life, but regardless, long before that picture is due to be taken and at _least_ two centuries before her rightful time," Daniel's explained, trying to make Archer see what was at stake, to appeal to both the rational part of the man who cared about the Federation that was to be and the sentimental part that saw his two best friends' grandchild in turmoil and facing an early death.

"I barely know the girl, and she thinks I've come to Kotook to rob her of her new fangled engine technology. What makes you think I can save her?" Jonathan Archer asked, now very concerned. How exactly did one save a person intent on destroying themselves?

"Her pain over her father's death is currently pushing her to segregate herself from others as a way of protecting herself and them from any more suffering. When she takes that 'new fangled engine technology' and heads out into space, that lack of connection will be her undoing. In some potential timelines, she runs into the wrong aliens and without a crew to help her, is killed. In others, the Vulcan aspect of her biology catches up to her, and having made no significant interpersonal bonds since leaving Kotook, she has no mate, and…" Daniels explained cautiously, trying to stay away from a subject even 31st century Vulcans thought taboo.

"I understand," Archer replied quickly, letting Daniels off the hook on this. He knew how sensitive Vulcans could be on this subject.

"That is what makes this whole situation so difficult. There isn't a series of events I or my colleagues can alter or a physical situation that can be changed. It's Jomala's perspective that must be reshaped, and she's not exactly listening to reason right now," Daniels admitted, hating to show his frustration. He had always banked on his knowledge of the future to move those in the past to action. All sentient beings responded to reason in one form or another, dealing with a situation where the needed solution required a mental outlook and the person involved was in a highly agitated and irrational state, was the worst situation possible for those in his line of work. Like one of his professors once said 'Fatalism doesn't just kill individuals or even entire civilizations, at its heart it holds the power to destroy universes'.

Archer stood, ready to return to his own time with the knowledge he had learned, to dig into young Jomala's problems with renewed vigor. He was on a mission, a very personal mission, one he needed to return to as soon as possible.


	11. Chapter 11: Supper Time III

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. Alright, I caved. This part officially drags the story into AU territory, but only in so much as Commander Tucker isn't meant to die in 'These Are the Voyages'. Other than that, I'm not going any further into AU.

**Living Beyond**

Part 9C

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

"So, what are your plans for the future?" Captain Jonathan Archer asked the women at the table. Having been returned by Daniels to the dinner table he'd been attempting to sit down at, Archer found himself being shaken out of his stupor by Trip, then quickly regrouped himself to start fixing history for the future of Star Fleet. Not that men like Daniels deserved such a future, but Jonathan Archer knew in his gut by now that this Federation would ultimately do far more good than harm, save far more lives than it let get 'pruned', so he had to serve its ends.

"Grow my business, I guess. Talnuse and I plan to start a family someday, but right now, the station is growing. If this pace keeps up, I might franchise to other stations and planets," Amitana explained, imaging a future of outlets throughout the galaxy.

"I'm content to continue working with Doctor Dakon. The work is challenging and as Ami said, the station is growing. When Doctor Dakon eventually leaves Kotook, I'll likely be able to get a job working for another physician, and I'll have his recommendation," Balasara explained, taking a bite of her favorite casserole. Her mother had done another fine job of this meal and she so rarely had a filling meal, with all the snack foods she now consumed to manage the erratic schedule her boss kept.

"Earth has had a nursing shortage for centuries. You could make even better money there, with a more regular schedule," Trip offered, having done some research after Phlox's prediction of Dakon's staff being severely overworked.

"I could never leave Kotook," Balasara explained succinctly.

"Aplacians prefer to die where they're born. Moving around, while common to both Humans and Vulcans, is virtually unheard of among our mother's people," Maranda explained, smiling at Captain Archer. He truly was as dynamic as she remembered from her childhood, even more so, without the weight of old age upon him. Wondering just how dynamic, she slowly snaked her leg out under the table, caressing his calf with the tips of her toes. He suddenly withdrew it, straightening himself in his chair. Maranda couldn't help but chuckle.

"Are you feeling alright, Captain?" T'Pol asked, having noticed her commanding officer's sudden jolting at the table.

"I'm fine. _NOTHING_ to worry about," Archer replied, holding Maranda's eyes in an attempt to let her know that nothing was going to happen between them.

Nodding with acceptance, Maranda took a sip of her wine before speaking. "As for my plans, I too have decided to remain on Kotook the rest of my days. However, I'm enjoying the influx of new visitors. Hopefully I'll get a chance to speak with your Mr. Reed before your ship leaves. I sent him an invitation to lunch as soon as you docked, but he claimed he was too busy. Perhaps you can get him to relent, Captain, I'd love to pick his brain on what he's learned this past year. Aplacian security forces rarely dealt with off-world criminals when our people were still planet bound, so when I inherited the title of senior constable, I started implementing several Star Fleet and Maco procedural mandates to augment what traditional practices lack."

"I'll speak with Malcolm; see what I can do," Archer offered congenially, not wanting to embarrass anyone at the table.

"Thank you, Captain," Maranda said, smiling once more. Archer obviously wasn't interested in her, but again, he was being a gentleman about it. Why couldn't she meet such a man who was interested? Oh, she'd written of Aplacian men long ago. The only one that would consider marrying a hybrid was Talnuse and only because he lived and died by Amitana's word since the two of them were kids. Amitana probably thought it had more to do with Talnuse's orphaned status, but Maranda read people better than her sister, even without harnessing her telepathic skills, merely by observing them. Maranda was certain that even if her brother-in-law had had a mother, he would have defied her to marry Ami if it had been necessary. Not that Maranda had ever wanted Talnuse for herself, but it was a pity that Amitana didn't appreciate the good man she had.

"And what about you, Jomala?" Archer asked, finally getting to speak with the girl he had meant the question for. Perhaps if he could get her talking about the future, it would become more real to her, and her plans realistic.

"My ship will be complete in approximately three months. I'll be leaving Kotook as soon as it's ready and I have enough provisions and supplies to begin my journey," Jomala answered noncommittally.

"Have you decided on a crew yet?" Archer asked, tackling one of Daniels mentioned scenarios.

"I plan to start out alone. Like Maranda told you, Aplacians generally do not move around. I've met some potentials from the recent visitors to the station, but they're either spoken for by a fleet or are more interested in commerce than exploration," Jomala explained. It was a long shot, but maybe Archer would help her find a crew of her own.

"You know, Star Fleet is always looking for new recruits and unlike most fleets, they're quite open to nonhuman members. In fact they're looking to expand the fleet's diversity," Archer commented.

"Yeah! Maybe after you graduate from the academy, you could come work with me and T'Pol on Enterprise!" Trip Tucker proclaimed happily. Having his granddaughter working with them would be out of sight, especially if she was good enough to build a Warp 6.9 engine all by herself.

"No offense, but I don't think I'm Star Fleet material. I'm an engineer," Jomala explained calmly.

"And what does that make me, a duck?" Trip shot back, a bit insulted by Jomala's statement.

"Duck… oh, water fowl, like in the Ugly Duckling… No, no, what I meant was, I'm not interested in being a Star Fleet engineer, that's all. I mean, Star Fleet has its ideals and its values and it represents a planetary government and all Star Fleet members have to conform to that, to rules set up to promote those ideas and values, and serve that planetary government. I have my own ideas and values, and I don't have a species to or a home planet to be tied to. I just don't think I'd make a good Star Fleet officer. I do make a good engineer. That's all I meant," Jomala explained, trying to put her feelings into words. She respected Star Fleet, but she didn't want to be part of it.

Archer sighed, this was going to be harder than he thought. When he and his officers returned to Enterprise, he would inform them of Daniels' information, maybe even call a general staff meeting if T'Pol and Trip agreed. They had a lot of work to do.


	12. Chapter 12: Conference Room

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. Alright, I caved. This part officially drags the story into AU territory, but only in so much as Commander Tucker isn't meant to die in 'These Are the Voyages'. Other than that, I'm not going any further into AU.

**Living Beyond**

Part 10

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Malcolm Reed was very confused. Upon their return to the ship from what was supposed to have been a nice, home cooked, meal by a friendly Aplacian woman on Kotook, his Captain, T'Pol, and his best friend on Enterprise, Trip Tucker, had all grimly made their way to the conference room. Then, not twenty minutes later, just as he was about to head to his quarters to get some sleep, he found himself called to that same room, only to meet Dr. Phlox, Hoshi, and Travis on the way.

The Captain calling a staff meeting this late usually meant trouble, but for the life of him, Malcolm couldn't figure out what kind of trouble the three could have encountered on Kotook station. His cursory analysis had left him impressed by the level of unobtrusive security on the station. He'd even briefly reconsidered meeting that Senior Constable who'd offered to take him to lunch, but then realized he was booked solid with work in the armory. Some of the new equipment the senior staff had purchased on Kotook was perfect for more finely calibrating the photonic torpedoes, but each torpedo would need manual recalibration, a task which would take nearly a week to complete. Nope, professional lunches were not on the agenda.

As he seated himself in his usual seat at the conference table, Malcolm's apprehension grew. Everyone looked positively dire. Even the usually cheerful Phlox looked a bit on edge, although no where near as worried as the three senior officers.

"Alright, I know it's late but I figured this situation needed to be aired out as soon as possible, and despite the personal nature, Commanders T'Pol and Tucker have agreed. I'm sure you all remember the Second Enterprise that helped us make our meeting with Degra in time to stop the Xindi from launching their weapon to destroy Earth, as well as her Captain, Lorain. As Dr. Phlox, the Commanders, and myself have recently discovered, Lorian had a family on Kotook, a wife and four daughters to be exact."

"The family you had dinner with this evening?" Hoshi guessed, finally understanding why the senior staff had gone down to the station to eat with a civilian who had merely offered her assistance in gaining some supplies for Enterprise.

"Yes. Lorian's wife…" Archer began, only to be cut off by Phlox.

"Odd, my associate, Dakon informed me that Aplacians don't permit formal marriage between themselves and members of other species," Phlox interjected, curious by this turn of events, and completely comfortable with questioning the situation in the middle of a staff meeting.

"Lorian and Matayara were married aboard Enterprise," T'Pol supplied, wanting to cut off any further speculation and distracting segueways from the overly curious Denobulan.

Archer sighed, wanting to get the conversation back on track as well. "As I was saying, before being interrupted, yes, Lorian's wife was our hostess at dinner this evening. However, this isn't merely a family matter; otherwise I wouldn't have called you all in here. Shortly before dinner was served, I received a visit from Crewman Daniels, or more to the point, I was abducted again, and taken to Daniel's apartment in the 31st century."

"Bloody hell, what does he want from us this time?" Malcolm sighed, the start of a headache slowly creeping into his forehead. Daniels had that affect on the Enterprise crew.

"He claims he isn't here for us, but for Jomala, Lorian's youngest daughter. Seems she has a destiny to fulfill, and her current mental state is threatening not only his timeline, but the future of Star Fleet as well," Archer answered, completely understanding his tactical officer's reticence.

"Meaning, now that he's used us all up, he's moved on to some other poor sap. My condolences," Malcolm quickly added, realizing the young woman he just referred to as a 'poor sap' was the granddaughter of two of his closest friends, who were sitting across from him at the moment.

"As difficult as he may be, I believe Daniels has always had Earth's best interests at heart, or at the very least that United Federation of Planets Earth is supposed to join seven years from now. However, Daniels is not my concern; Jomala is. Lorian and his crew gave their lives for us and for Earth. We owe it to him to see that his daughter is kept safe in his absence," Archer explained, seeing his entire senior staff nod in agreement.

"If it's not too much to ask, did Mr. Daniels give you an indication on what exactly is wrong with the young lady? Rustov's broken jaw would suggest anger issues," Phlox queried, shifting his gears to his studies of interspecies psychiatry.

"Wait a moment. Are you saying this Jomala is that kid that decimated Rustov's jaw this morning?" Malcolm asked incredulously. That shifted his perspective somewhat. The girl was violent, and had no deference towards Star Fleet personnel.

"Hey, if some armed, uniformed stranger came up to me, called me a thief, and then tried to _RIP_ the power relays out of Enterprise, a busted jaw would be the least of their worries. From where I stand, Rostov got off easy," Trip asserted, seeing the concern on Malcolm's face, when he learned the identity of Rustov's assailant. Jomala was his granddaughter and he'd defend her if need be. Having lost Lizzie and his hometown over a year ago, had reminded him forcefully just how important family truly was.

"Be that as it may, Daniels believes Jomala's problems stem from depression and self-destructive tendencies. He claims all the scenarios his people have run show her successfully getting herself killed long before she can do her part for history. According to her mother, Jomala and Lorian were very close, and she's having an extremely difficult time dealing with his death," Archer explained, hating all these distracting questions, but knowing his staff couldn't operate effectively without these details.

"Well, that gives me something to work with. However, unless I speak with and examine her personally, it would be quite unprofessional of me to make a diagnosis. Do you think she'd be open to seeing me?" Phlox asked, his mind already formulating the tests he would perform on the girl to help gage her mental state. He'd have to get some information from Dakon on Aplacian psychiatry, but Phlox felt confident that with enough data he could put together some sort of diagnostic in time.

"I can go and speak with her mother. Jomala's still a minor. If her mother gives consent, she'll have to come see ya," Trip offered, hoping to do his part here. Outside of pulling apart her ship, Trip felt that his expertise would be of little use here. At least using his role as Matayara's Second Father, he'd have something to do, some way to help.

"I will come with you," T'Pol offered, also feeling the need to assist, but not exactly knowing how.

"Good. Hoshi, I want you to scour the Second Enterprise's database. I need to know everything they knew about Jomala, crew personal logs included. She was the Captain's daughter and we know they had a copy of her birth certificate on file. It's quite possible her time aboard Enterprise was as well documented as any of the other Second Enterprise's children, despite the fact that she didn't live there. Also, transfer their medical database to Phlox. If she scraped her knee in the corridor on C deck when she was five, I want to know about it," Archer commanded, coming up with strategy as he spoke. He hated to think of this as just another problem for his crew to investigate, but he had to treat it as such, at least for now.

"Yes Captain," both Phlox and Hoshi answered together, having their orders.

"Malcolm you have a lunch date tomorrow with Kotook's Senior Constable. She's Jomala's eldest sister, and she appears to know that station and everyone on it like the back of her hand. I have a feeling that if anyone on Kotook can get us an accurate stationside background and picture of events, it would be Maranda," Archer surmised with a small smile. The woman was indeed persistent, although he could tell she was also reasonable, considering how she had backed off when he made it clear he wasn't interested. She seemed to have her job neatly wrapped up. Using her investigative mind to assist in rescuing her sister seemed the most logical move.

"Aye Sir. I'll see what I can dig up over lunch," Malcolm replied. The Armory would have to wait. His friends needed him, and truth be told, he had wanted to meet the Senior Constable who ran such a well protected station. Now he just had to figure out how to tell her that her sister was in grave danger according to a time traveling nuisance they knew.


	13. Chapter 13: Seeking Another Stall

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. Alright, I caved. This part officially drags the story into AU territory, but only in so much as Commander Tucker isn't meant to die in 'These Are the Voyages'. Other than that, I'm not going any further into AU.

**Living Beyond**

Part 11

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

The next morning, Jomala was able to acquire the sealant for her warp core for barely more than her cousin had paid for it. Her grandparents had pulled her aside after dinner and while Grandmother T'Pol had calmly explained how it was beneath Vulcans to take technology from an unwilling creator, Grandfather Trip had gone on about how he'd been raised to never swindle family, claiming it was 'just not done'. Bottom line was, her engine was still hers, and the renewed confidence that knowledge engendered gave her the edge in her negotiations with Dadocleese.

Pleased, Jomala decided to revise her plan somewhat and privately auction her engine. She'd send special invitations to Star Fleet and the Vulcan Science Academy, when her warp engine was fully vetted and all the necessary data to prove her discoveries was in. She had always hated the idea of the Klingons or Orions or some other dishonorable party winning the right to her hard work, and truth be told, most of that work was initially based on Star Fleet and Vulcan specs. Even the screws holding down the furniture were Star Fleet issue. Others groups might be willing to bid more, but probably not substantially more, and this way, Jomala would know responsible people were utilizing her discoveries. At the very least, she'd have more than enough to live comfortably as she roamed the universe, regardless of which of her Grandparents' home worlds paid that bill.

Contented once more, Jomala decided she would return to her ship and 'sit in' on Maranda's lunch with Malcolm Reed in an hour, to see if she could learn any pertinent information. She knew her sister would meet Reed at Respandara's Café. It was Maranda's favorite, and she _ALWAYS_ met for business lunches there. The owner, being an old friend of Maranda's, had made it clear to her staff that Maranda's requests were to be honored. The fact that Maranda tipped extremely well at these lunches didn't hurt either. She'd send a list of items the staff should offer or lines they should say, depending on who Maranda was entertaining, and nearly always, the lunch would leave her guest so confident, their ship or even fleet would dock routinely at Kotook from then on.

And Jomala had Maranda's special table bugged ever since the famous Commander Shran had come to Kotook six months ago. After one lunch with Shran, Kotook had been visited by five Andorian vessels in less than a half year, but how her sister planned to get the Andorian Imperial Fleet's business for the station had mattered little to Jomala when she'd planted the bug. This was _SHRAN_! He was a hero to all the children of the Second Enterprise. Who in their right mind would pass up an opportunity to bug his lunch table, to absorb his wisdom, recorded for all posterity?!

Setting down her case of sealant in her private quarters aboard her ship, Jomala stretched, then hunkered down with a Lendrell soda to listen to her sister's meeting with Reed. She hadn't slept much last night, hadn't slept too well, since Enterprise docked, so she figured she would spend most of her day taking it easy aboard ship and see if she could clear her mind through meditation. Maranda was the meditation expert, but at this point, Jomala needed the rest too much. She checked her bugs to make sure they were operational, then lit her candles and assumed a lotus position.

Jomala could see him, clearly, her father. He was where she went in her mind to relax, to the unconditional love both her parents, and only her parents, had showered on her from birth. Her sisters loved her fiercely, but that love could never compare to what her parents felt for her. She knew it every time she touched one of them. It made her feel light, calm and centered.

Suddenly, the image of her father walked into her field of vision, no longer just a memory playing before her, and something in her became frightened. She had never truly been afraid of her father. He'd never abused her in any way, and his Vulcan control kept his temper from ever overwhelming him. Yet here he was standing before her, more real than she had ever known in her mind. There, and upset. There and angry with her. There, and terribly worried for her.

The sound of her alarm pulled her from her frightening meditation. She had fifteen minutes till Maranda and Lieutenant Reed met for lunch. Rechecking her bugs, Jomala was finally able to push her earlier fear from him consciousness. It had only been her subconscious mind playing within a very deep meditative state. This was reality, a reality with a starship security chief about to tell all to her sister about how to keep a space bound object safe for its occupants, information Jomala was eager to glean.

Resting back on her bed, her now deflated soda unappealing, she closed her eyes to listen. Reed arrived for lunch. Meals were ordered. Maranda went into her cooing mode over all the great stuff she had learned from Reed's security logs.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, she heard her name, and her eyes popped open. It was Reed who had brought her up. She continued to listen, and the more she heard the more hungry her ears became. The Temporal Agent Daniels had told Captain Archer she was special; that she was going to shape Star Fleet's warp program for centuries; that she was supposed to design another Enterprise, one that could handle Warp 9.9; that history depended on her; but also, that her pain over her father's death was threatening her very life and all she was destined to accomplish.

And while Mr. Reeds story of all the great things she was meant to do stroked her ego, to Jomala it's only worth was in the solution it provided to all her woes. A plan had started to form in her mind, one that required cunning and bravery on her part, but if successful would give her the leverage to demand the return of her father and his crew, Daniels' timeline be dmned.

Making her way to her desk, Jomala pulled up her father's database on her ship's computer and set up a search for all references to the Suliban Cabal. A smile spread across her face, as she waited for the results to come in, and Amitana's favorite Aplacian proverb popped into her head "If you don't like the deal at one stall, seek a better price elsewhere."


	14. Chapter 14: The Plan

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. Hopefully this part will clarify some of the misconceptions I've been receiving over the last part. Reed did not blab, except under orders to do so, and Maranda doesn't actively empath people like Amitana does.

**Living Beyond**

Part 12

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Maranda rubbed her temples as she futilely attempted to continue her staff evaluations for the quarter. It was no use. Her lunch with Lieutenant Reed was on her mind and wasn't going away.

Duty, even combined with Vulcan mental disciplines, couldn't compete with knowing your baby sister was destined to become some great history maker, if she lived long enough to make history, which was seriously up in the air at the moment. Part of Maranda wished Malcolm Reed hadn't told her, but then again, he was under orders to do so. Captain Archer needed her help, and with the urgency radiating off her lunch companion from the moment he arrived at Respandara's Café, the turning of the conversation had been abrupt. She had demanded he quit his attempts to make small talk and get to the point she could sense, despite all her attempts to block out his worry and urgency, he needed to make. Despite all she'd seen and experienced in nearly 79 years of life, nothing could have prepared her for his disclosure.

She had spent the rest of the lunch debriefing Mr. Reed on Jomala's life story, the two of them clinically trying to dissect her like each would a murder suspect or ship's saboteur. She'd profiled her own sister, but then, she had no choice really. She couldn't deal with loosing her. Despite her penchant for trouble, Jomala was her baby sister.

Completely giving up getting any work done, Maranda felt compelled to find Jomala, to see her alive and safe. The fear inside her refusing to be pushed aside today, and Maranda left her office. She would give in. She would go to Jomala and make up some excuse to keep the girl close by today. But first she had to find her.

Thankfully Maranda spotted her sister on the way to the lifts. She had expected her to take the lift headed down eight levels to the docking bay, not the one going up. Jomala's going up meant only one of two things. She was returning home, which at this time of day was highly unlikely, or she was heading to see Amitana, to beg for a loan from their wealthiest sister.

Jomala looked apprehensive, like she was reciting a pitch for her loan. This made little sense to Maranda. Jomala's loans from Amitana were always small and always repaid within a week. She'd work an extra repair job and the debt would be cleared. Amitana charged interest, albeit a very low rate, so Jomala never wanted to wait on repaying. She hadn't had to pitch for a loan since she was twelve. Something out of the ordinary was going on with her sister today, and considering the stakes Maranda decided to follow discretely.

When she finally made it to Amitana's mega stall, Maranda approached with caution, doing her best to blend in with all the women looking through the racks of clothing. It wasn't hard, Amitana's was packed. Finding her two sisters wouldn't be difficult. They'd be in the back, in Amitana's storage area.

Making her way to the back of the store, Maranda entered the storage room, and carefully followed the voices of her two sisters who had obviously retreated to the far end.

"Jo, be realistic! Do you really think you can strong arm a Temporal Agent from the 29th century?" Amitana asked incredulously, sighing at her sister's naiveté.

"Either that or blackmail one from the 31st. That's the beauty of my plan, Ami. Either Mr. Daniels will return Father and his crew so that their faction of Temporal Agents can proactively handle the resulting changes in the timeline without interference, or I convince the Suliban Master that helping me return Father and his crew will work to his advantage. After all, there has to be some reason why Daniels felt Father's people were too much of a disruption to _THEIR _ideal timeline, while you and I were just dandy and should be immunized at once," Jomala explained, bitterness at Daniels willingness to toss her father overboard dripping from her last words.

Amitana understood well enough. With a mother with a philosophy degree and a father whose very existence had resulted from a disruption to the timeline, one couldn't go 54 years in their particular household without picking up a great deal of temporal philosophy. "But you said you bugged Maranda's table at Respandara's and heard Mr. Reed tell Maranda that you were essential to that timeline…"

"Which is why Daniels will likely bite his tongue till he bleeds all over his temporal observatory, before he even thinks of fighting back. And considering how it was the Suliban Master who told Captain Archer about the Xindi and the Expanse, I firmly believe the Warp 9.9 discovery is equally important to the timeline he's trying to initiate as well. Harming me would be bad for both of them, so I'll be safe with both. It's like an auction, Ami. I'm just getting paid in Father and all my childhood friends rather than money or goods. Ofcourse I'll have to pay you back for my loan, but I can get the money with a few extra jobs, no sweat," Jomala finished her explanation, bringing herself back to the reason she'd come to Amitana in the first place.

The size of this loan was huge by Jomala's usual standards. She needed to book passage into Suliban space; she needed equipment; she needed food and upkeep money. This could journey could take weeks or even months. She'd likely be indebted to her sister for years to come, but if Father came home safe and sound, Jomala could accept staying put on Kotook a bit longer.

Besides, if Father did come home, they'd be working side by side to build a new home for the Second Enterprise' crew when they had to return their Enterprise back to Star Fleet. Jomala would much rather work on that ship than her rinky-dink, 10 person, vessel anyway. That ship would hold 1000 people if need be, and she would travel the universe with Father and all her friends on it. What better way could Daniels imagine her picking up the skill to someday take her work three whole warp factors ahead?!

"You'd be lucky if you could pay me back in a decade. Father will never let you work on Orion vessels if he comes back. He'd likely take your head off for doing so while he was away. But I'll loan you the money anyway. I want Father to return far more than I want a franchise," Amitana conceded, hugging her sister firmly. The idea of getting Father back lit Amitana's eyes with tears, and the two sisters basked in each other's newfound hope, their empathic bond sending it back and forth in a feedback loop.

"_IF YOU GO_, you're not going alone, Jo. I'm coming with you… and that's after I kick your but for bugging my table!" Maranda stated resolutely, as she stepped out of the shadows to confront her sisters, both of whom jumped at the intrusion.


	15. Chapter 15: Missing Persons

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'.

**Living Beyond**

Part 13

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

The next day found Jonathan Archer and his entire Senior Staff in VERY fowl moods. It had all began with Phlox's colleague, Dr. Dakon, calling to Enterprise, demanding to speak with Captain Archer, then railing as to where his nurse had been taken, pressing the importance of timing to his research and what loosing his research assistant would due to his work.

An hour and a dozen inquiries later, the seven Star Fleet Officers were now facing a very frightened Matayara. "I just woke up and there was that note. 'Mother, don't worry. We're going to save Father. We'll all be home as soon as possible'. It's Maranda's data pad I'm sure of that, and my uncle who manages the bank claims the money came out of Amitana's account. But they're all missing! They're all gone!"

Seeing the young Aplacian man standing in the corner of the room, Malcolm Reed approached him. "You're one of the ladies' husbands, right?"

"Yes. Amitana. She woke me up in the middle of the night, started giving me directions for the store, and asked me to tend to Second Mother while she was away. She often takes short business trips in order to meet with designers, and occasionally leaves at odd hours when there's a problem that requires immediate attention. I thought nothing of it, until Matayara messaged me in a panic this morning," Talnuse answered, a loud cough accompanying his words. Amitana was his entire life. He couldn't even breathe thinking that something might have happened to her.

"Are you sure your wife didn't say anything that could give us a hint as to where they're going?" Malcolm Reed asked gently. He had already learned the cough to tear equivalency, Phlox having had to shove triox into the mother's arm when they'd first arrived.

"No, like I said, she didn't even tell me why she was leaving! I just assumed it was business related. Maranda's pad says they're going to save their father. How can they save Mister Lorian when he's already dead?! What's going on!" Talnuse demanded in panic. He was never a strong willed man, except when it came to winning Amitana, but he would do whatever he had to, if it would keep her safe.

Another coughing fit, forced Malcolm to back off. This man obviously didn't know anything about his wife's disappearance, and was beginning to panic. All he could do was comfort. "It'll be okay. Neither I, nor Captain Archer, will quit till we've found your wife and her sisters. You have my word."

Regrouping, the Captain and his senior staff huddled to talk, Archer beginning the conversation. "So what do we have?"

"Nothing you all don't already know, Sir. The mother and the husband of one of the women are both clueless as to the four ladies' current whereabouts. They all seemed to have made arrangements in regards to their work. Even the nurse left Dr. Dakon a letter of resignation before leaving, despite his tirade this morning. The Senior Constable turned over the station to her second, claiming a family emergency and taking her six months of unused vacation time. Even Jomala paid up her docking fees on her ship for the next three months. Some of their clothes and personal effects are missing. In short, they left voluntarily. Wherefore, I'm still working on that one," Reed reported, not happy to have to concede failure so far. He didn't have time to dwell on it, as his communicator beeped and he turned around to take the call.

"Perhaps it was whenfore, rather than wherefore? I mean Crewman Daniels is involved," Travis Mayweather offered, still not completely comfortable with all this time travel business. For all they knew, the women were in the 31st century.

"Not Daniels' style. When he removes people from time he returns them to the exact moment they left. Also, he has no interest in Jomala's sisters. They're quote 'not a threat to the timeline'. If he were to directly intervene, he'd only have taken his target, and he wouldn't have given her time to pack," Archer explained to the young ensign.

Closing up his communicator, Malcolm sighed wearily. He hated delivering bad news even more than no news at all. "That was Michelleson. A freighter Captain he spoke with overheard the Senior Constable booking passage on a Detonian vessel last night. The man remembered the coordinates she'd given, as he had considered taking the fair for less, if the destination was on his route. It wasn't, but the query was still in his database. The coordinates correspond with a space station in Sector 3641… the heart of Suliban territory."

"Suliban? Why would any of them want to visit the Suliban?" Trip asked in total confusion and worry. This was bad, very bad.

"Competition," Matayara surmised, startling everyone as she made her way into Archer's circle.

"I'm a philosopher by training; I've also done extensive research into temporal mechanics. Lorian informed me about the 'Temporal Cold War' you, Captain Archer, had told him about when you were still grooming him to take over as Enterprise's Captain. He mentioned the Suliban species were footsoldiers of some 29th century faction, and that this man, Mr. Daniels, was part of a 31st century one. It would be just like Jomala to play your Mister Daniels and this other faction off one another in hopes of reclaiming my mate and his peoples' lives, but in order to do that, she'd have to make her pitch to both sides. Jomala's the baby of the family. My other daughters, particularly Maranda, would never have let her go alone," Matayara surmised, knowing her daughters' minds better than they did.

"They ain't got anything to bargain with. Daniels said the Temporal Cold War was over," Trip asked, bile rising in his throat. If his granddaughters had nothing to offer the Suliban, they'd kill or enslave them.

"He said it was 'coming to an end', that there were still a few smaller factions out there. But that said, Jomala allying herself with the Suliban could undo everything we've worked for all these years. If she uses her gifts to their ends, she could turn a minor faction into a major one," Archer grumbled, trying to wrap his brain around concepts he still barely grasped at all himself.

Hearing enough, Matayara felt she must speak in her youngest child's defense, before these people turned Jomala into an enemy. "Captain Archer, my daughter is not a monster. She will only join forces with these Suliban if your Mr. Daniels leaves her no choice. If my mate is returned to his family, I'm sure Jomala would…"

"Daniels is not the kind of guy to give into a terrorist," Archer replied, cutting off the woman before she could continue. As much as he might dislike Daniels, he had learned too much from Silik about the faction the Suliban worked for to ever trust them. If Jomala was willing to go along with the Suliban, to hold history hostage in order to get what she wanted, what else did that make her?

"Now hold on a minute, John! My granddaughter is _NOT_ a terrorist! She's just doing whatever it takes to save her dad!" Trip defended, standing between Matayara and his captain.

"By holding all of history hostage?!" Archer fired back, Trip was out of line, but worse than that, he was earnest about it.

"By holding all of_ DANIELS'_ history hostage! This is Jomala's present! She has far more right to shape this time than Daniels, as she's the one who has to live in it! If Lorian was supposed to have been naturally erased from history, then so should his daughters have been, and all our memories of any of them! If Daniels and his people planned to immunize them from the temporal displacement, they had an obligation to immunize them all, not just the folks who could be useful to them! Daniels thinks he has the right to cherrypick who lives and who dies in _OUR_ time, in order to make life easier in his own! I may not know much about timelines and temporal mechanics but situational ethics will always be situational ethics, no matter how much futuristic technology you have to disguise them!" Trip Tucker steamed, hating to hear Daniels ideology coming out of his best friend's mouth.

"I understand what you're saying, Trip, but I'm also honor bound to protect Star Fleet, and permitting Jomala to work for the Suliban might threaten Star Fleet's future," Archer finally responded, somewhat stunned by his best friend's words. Trip was right morally, but they had all taken an oath to Star Fleet, and Jomala's destiny, and that of Star Fleet, were, according to Daniels, very much intertwined.


	16. Chapter 16: Confronting

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'.

**Living Beyond**

Part 14

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Balasara shook her head at the look of indecision on her sister's face. "This is a rescue mission, not a fashion show. I don't think the Suliban, or Mr. Daniels, will care how you're dressed when we're giving them an ultimatum and heating up their Cold War."

"I'm working. One of my suppliers sent these samples of what he'll be offering next season. I have to pick what I want to order when we get back to Kotook, assuming we get back in the next two months. Just because Father will leave Jo more or less out of work, doesn't mean my business has to suffer," Amitana explained, twirling in front of the mirror in their cabin.

"You're really taking far too much pleasure with the idea of Father reading Jo the riot act over working for the Orion Syndicate. Do I sense some jealousy?" Balasara queried, smiling at her sister's raised eyebrow. Despite their conflict, Amitana looked most like Grandmother T'Pol of all of them, and that included her mannerisms and facial expressions.

Balasara still couldn't believe the amount of money Amitana had plunked down to have her ears cosmetically altered to look Aplacian, nor the stoicism she'd exhibited during the two painful infections she'd gotten as a result of the surgery. Thankfully her double lobed ears were now curved and aesthetically pleasing to Amitana. She hated to think what another round of operations would put her sister through, and she knew her sister would endure whatever was necessary if the earlier one hadn't done its job. Balasara had never understood Amitana's getting the surgery in the first place. Everyone on Kotook knew Matayara's daughters were hybrids and that their father, Lorian, had single-lobed, pointed ears, as did his mother. What was the point of going through all that for the sake of beauty, when nobody would be swayed by your appearance?

"Jealousy, over Jo's working for the Orions? Why would I be jealous of that?" Amitana exclaimed in confusion. Truthfully, the only thing she'd ever been jealous of, in regards to her youngest sister's life, was this new revelation of Jomala's future fame, and even that didn't mean very much to Amitana. If Jomala wanted to spend the next two hundred years tinkering around starship engines for the approval of centuries to come, she'd wish her well. Fame was all well and good, but in Amitana's view, that price was too high. She preferred to be beautiful, locally respected, and most of all, extremely rich, even if that made her easily forgotten in the eyes of history.

"No, over Jo's cash flow. You're used to being the one we all go to for loans, the one with all the money. Now, Jo is making it on her own. She only comes to you for loans when she's impatient for a new part. She doesn't actually need you the way I and Maranda do, to bail us out of end of the month bills from time to time. Not to mention, if Jo had sold her engine and set out into space, she might have had enough funds to rival your bank account in a very short time," Balasara observed, smiling knowingly at her sister.

Amitana might be 14 years her senior, but her talents were so focused on business, she rarely saw beyond it, in the same way Jomala rarely saw beyond her engines. Both their minds were like highly focused lasers, and despite Amitana's training, when she wasn't trying to get the inside track on a customer or business associate, her ability to read people, even to read her own feelings and motivations, was limited.

Nursing forced Balasara to read people, as the ability to read others, as well as yourself, separated the adequate nurse from the excellent one. Balasara cared too much for her patients, and the lives that would be bettered or saved by assisting in Dr. Dakon's work, to allow herself to be merely adequate.

"She also would have been dead in a very short time, otherwise we'd still be on Kotook right now," Amitana rebutted, not liking the emotions Balasara's statement had produced in her. Was it possible she was jealous of Jomala's earning capacity?

Amitana liked her role as provider for her family. Mother had always been good at investing, and Father's travels left him well able to see to his family's needs, but when news of Father's demise had hit them, Mother had come to depend on her more, and Amitana felt extremely proud of being the one to provide financially, giving her mother and sisters time to grieve without the burdens of money to add to their misery.

If Father came back, she'd just be Amitana again, but then, when Father had been alive, being herself hadn't seemed so difficult. Of all the things he'd given her, it was that sense of safety and prosperity that Amitana missed most. She had to wonder if they did get Father back, could she ever go back to feeling safe enough to be the old Amitana, or would this sense of dread stick around, like an undigested food item, refusing to come back up and constantly making you queasy, as you waited impatiently for it finish digesting.

"True," Balasara had to admit. Father had been Jo's whole life. He'd taught her engineering. He'd paid for her parts and equipment. He'd helped her perfect her craft, and supported her in making her own discoveries. Jomala had hung on Father like an additional appendage. Even being away most of the time, her mind had always been on ways to impress him when he came back. And Father had doted on her in response. After Maranda, Amitana, and herself, a daughter obsessed with antimatter injectors, instead of the opinion of boys must have seemed a gift to him, especially considering his older daughters were fully grown, and Jomala was to be her parents' last child.

But then, Jomala was still a child. Balasara knew Father and Mother had had a plan to push her out of the nest in a year or two, but that plan had never been realized, so Father's death had left Jo stagnant. This Daniels must really be an idiot if he believed Jomala, as is, could ever do all the wonderful things he expected her to do. Besides, Jomala wasn't a slave, not to Daniels and not to history.

However, Balasara believed every prediction about her sister, _IF_ Father returned and Jomala could heal in their family's love. If not, Balasara had little hope, which was why she had given up the job that had brought her the most fulfillment of her career to go see the Suliban Master with her sisters. She was the only one with medical training, and an extra healthy comrade was always helpful in a fight, or so the Macos she'd learned self defense from had told her. They had no idea what to expect when they got to Suliban territory. Daniels would protect Jomala. Herself, Maranda, and Amitana he might very well allow to die, if things turned ugly. With these stakes, Balasara hadn't hesitated to come along.

"I've narrowed my last buy down to these three styles. Which of these would you buy next season?" Amitana asked, a moment before the Detonian cargo ship lurched, throwing them both off balance.

"What in blazes was that?!" Amitana shrieked, clearly put out, as Maranda and Jomala rushed in.

Suddenly the intercom in their quarters beeped, and a very angry Detonian Captain's voice came over the comm. "You stupid Btches, an armed Earth starship has me grappled! They want the four of you and the four of you they shall have! Do you know what the Suliban will do to me if this shipment is late, they'll..."

Again the ship lurched, only this time, more forcefully. From the small view port of their cabin, three of the four sisters could only watch as a standoff began between Enterprise and an equally determined Suliban Helix, before spinning around to find Jomala holding a small, glowing metallic object.

"I call it an 'Emergency Temporal Flare'. Really it's just reversely engineered Spherebuilder tech to get our bidders attention. Archer is too smart. He trained Father, so he has to be. I knew there was a good chance he'd find us before we could reach our destination, so I called for reinforcements," Jomala explained, shrugging her shoulders.


	17. Chapter 17: Rescue

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'.

**Living Beyond**

Part 15

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Jonathan Archer sighed heavily as he and the Suliban Helix stared each other down. He knew they'd be contacting him soon, threaten him, then attempt to send him on his way. The Suliban were the perfect lackeys. They did what they were told in exchange for their enhancements. He wasn't their target this time, but he was in their way.

"Captain, we're being hailed," Hoshi Sato relayed, preparing to bring up the message if asked. She had danced this dance many times over and would likely do as many times again.

"On screen," Captain Archer commanded. What he saw next took a few seconds to process, but only a few. He too was an old hand at this game. "Ah, Silik, I see you had those bullet holes filled in. What's it like to come back to from the dead?"

"Refreshing. The idea of decomposing in that backwards time, on that backwards planet of yours was quite… unappealing," the Suliban commented honestly. He knew it was the truth, as did Archer. They had an uneasy respect born of a mutual history, nothing one could call friendship, but a bond based on the fact that they were both soldiers fighting a war that spanned time itself and yet was known only to a select few.

"What are you doing here, Silik?" Archer asked, wanting to get the first half-truths over quickly so they could move onto the next part of the game.

"That Detonian freighter you've grappled was on its way to a station in Suliban territory. It contains essential cargo an associate of mine requires. Release it at once, and you and your ship may leave unharmed. You are not part of the deal this time, John, and I'd very much prefer to see you live today, so that we might one day have that opportunity to destroy one another in person," Silik answered, once again with complete honesty. He'd found that lies and deception rarely worked with Archer. The truth was far more likely to slow him down than deceit.

"Goals are important; however I'm afraid I can't release that ship. There are four passengers onboard whom I've promised to return to their mother. She's very worried about them. Now, if you would permit me to retrieve them first, I'd be happy to leave you, the freighter, and that essential cargo your associate requires, in peace," Archer offered, letting Silik know in his own language that Enterprise wasn't budging till he had Jomala and her sisters on board.

"You know I can't do that John. I'll give you twenty of your minutes to free that vessel and leave our space, or I will destroy you," Silik answered more forcefully, cutting off his transmission.Archer obviously knew why they were both there and the importance of the young women to his employer. The human Captain would never leave now, so he would have to do so, after he beamed the ladies aboard his vessel.

Moving purposefully, Silik made his way to his ship's transporter room and scanned the Detonian ship. Finding the four women, he beamed them and everything in their room aboard his own vessel, directly into the most well shielded cargo bay. Then, he issued orders for his pod-ships to detach and attack Enterprise, permitting him a neat escape. He knew Archer could not be harmed. Taking Archer out of the picture had been as disastrous for his benefactor as it had been for the Temporal Agents. Archer was now known to all loyal Suliban as a necessary evil. However, the battle would keep his ship busy and damage it enough to prevent Enterprise from following. Once Silik was underway, he casually strolled down to the cargo bay to greet his guests.

"Ladies, please forgive my not greeting upon your arrival, but I was otherwise occupied. I already have quarters set up for your comfort. Which one of you is Jomala?" Silik asked, as he led the four women through his cargo bay.

"I am. While I'd like to thank you for rescuing us, we're eager to speak with your… leader. Perhaps, you could arrange for some of your men to take our possessions to those quarters you mentioned, so that we can begin negotiations as soon as possible," Jomala offered, wanting to get this over with. She didn't like this Silik. She'd read too much about him in her father's database. He was the definition of amoral, although he presented himself as a gentleman.

"An excellent plan. Follow me," Silik replied, motioning for his men to collect the women's belongings.

Jomala gave a reassuring squeeze to Balasara's shoulder, as the women followed Silik through the corridors of the Suliban ship. In truth, they were all scared out of their wits, but they knew not to show it. When they finally reached the room where Silik's benefactor could communicate with them, the Suliban leader stopped and turned to them "I trust you understand that my associate will not technically be in the room."

"His image is sent back through time, but he is unable to send his person. We've read all about your associate. We know what to expect, and we promise you we won't say or do anything that would risk any of the abilities you've been given by your benefactor," Jomala reassured Silik. She knew the Suliban lived in fear of their benefactor removing their enhancements.

"That is most considerate, Miss Tucker," Silik replied, typing in the code to the room he and his benefactor communicated together in.

Jomala's stomach quivered as she and her sisters entered the room and moved towards the dais, Silik by their sides. According to Archer's reports in her father's database, time didn't work exactly as it did in normal space in this room, so that a phaser blast took several seconds to reach its destination. However, Jomala's senses could detect nothing unusual going on here. It was spooky, but not much else. "May I ask when your leader will be joining us?"

"I'm already here, Miss Tucker," a disembodied voice stated before the darkened outline of a man appeared on the dais in the center of the room.

"Please, call me Jomala. You probably know more about me than I do," Jomala admitted with a shrug.

"Not enough, which is why your message intrigued me. You mentioned your father, but other than his name, I haven't been able to locate any information on him in any of the databases in my century," The man from the future explained, not giving any more away than necessary.

"When Captain Archer's Enterprise was traveling in the expanse last year, they used a subspace corridor in order to make a meeting with the Xindi council in hopes of preventing the deployment of the second Xindi weapon. In the original timeline, that corridor was destabilized by Enterprise' impulse wake, sending the ship 117 years into the past. Archer's crew made due during the intervening years, turning Enterprise into a generational ship, until 9 months ago, when the two timelines converged. This time Archer didn't get trapped in the past, and my father's timeline ceased to exist. However, the Temporal Agents decided I was too valuable to their future, so my sisters and I were immunized when the timeline reset itself. My father and his people were all proof of the possibility of time travel. Both Star Fleet and the Vulcan High Command classified my father's entire life, and all the data he and the crew of his Enterprise collected in their 117-year sojourn in the past, in Captain Archer's debriefing after he destroyed the second Xindi weapon and returned to Earth. I'm guessing when whatever Federation organization the Temporal Agents will be commissioned under, found this information and classified it as well, not to negate the fact that time travel is possible, but to keep rival factions from seeing the inconsistency of my personal history as a potential front in your Temporal Cold War. Not to mention hide their own hypocrisy when it comes to their own lack of obedience to the laws set down in the temporal accords. The fact that I and my siblings continue to exist thanks to their efforts, while our father and his crew were permitted to be erased in a natural resetting of the timeline, is proof enough that men like Daniels don't even live by their own ethics. Then again, I'm here talking to you, so I'm not much better, but people of the 22nd century are supposed to be barbaric and short sighted, while those a thousand years in the future are much more enlightened," Jomala mocked, rolling her eyes.

"Or so they would have you believe. However, you have yet to tell me your reason for coming to me," the man from the future pressed. He'd already figured out what she had come for. Her last words informed him that she still saw the universe with the eyes of a child, and children clung to their parents, even in death, or temporal paradox it would seem.

"I want you to send a message to the Silik of one year ago. Order him to board my father's ship and immunize him and his crew from being erased, the way the Temporal Agents saw fit to immunize myself and my sisters. When Captain Archer makes it through the subspace corridor without destabilizing it, I want two Enterprises to come out the other end, both in the right century," Jomala explained. She had practiced this list for three days, having recognized immediately that no contemporary language she spoke could easily describe what she needed said. She needed to be unequivocal about futuristic temporal mechanics, which wasn't easy in the 22nd century.

"And how does acceding to your terms here benefit me?" the man from the future asked, wanting to see where this brilliant child was in her thinking.

"You were very eager to see Jonathan Archer learn who had sent the probe that wiped out 7 million humans, and to warn him of the second weapon that would have wiped out Earth entirely, which leads me to believe you have a vested interest in not seeing the Spherebuilders succeed in their plans to convert and annex our universe onto their transdimensional realm. Tell me, if Federation starships can't even achieve warp 9.9, how likely are they to succeed at Procyon 5 against the Spherebuilders? If you deny me here, I'm gonna be much too busy catching up with my studies of temporal mechanics, to do any serious work on starship engines over the next two centuries. Not to mention, your adversaries, the Temporal Agents did indeed consider immunizing my father and his people themselves, but rejected the idea as it would be detrimental to their preferred timeline. Aplacians love proverbs and there is a very appropriate one from Earth that fits here nicely, 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend'," Jomala questioned coldly, her eyes darkening with resolve. Now all she had to do was wait and see what this future guy would decide, but then, for her, waiting had always been torture. She just had to hope her argument was convincing enough. If not, she'd still be safe, but she might just have to give up her glorious future. Father would have sacrificed his for her, if their roles were reversed.


	18. Chapter 18: Captain Lorian

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: The chapter of the story takes place shortly before and during the events of the Season 3 episode 'E2'. However, most of the chapters take place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. Again, this story is branching into AU territory, but I am attempting to keep as much of canon as stable as possible. I know a lot of fans aren't too big on that, but for me, the stability of canon is a big deal. However, some mistakes are too great to ignore.

**Living Beyond**

Part 16

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Captain Lorian Tucker sat within his quarters aboard Enterprise, concentrating on the flame before him. His mind was clearing, finally, although it had taken longer than usual for him to reach this calm. So many primal emotions were swirling around in his consciousness. Several months ago, he'd learned to break through the guilt of his failure to stop the first Xindi probe in his meditations, if not in his waking state, but in two days, all his emotional controls would be tested.

He'd have to walk aboard Enterprise and face Jonathan Archer as a failure, his mother as a biological and temporal anomaly, and his father as a living beacon of hope for a future with the woman the younger man already loved more than life itself, but also as a cryptic testament to the price of that future, an untimely death and a son who would have to grow to manhood without him. If Lorian failed yet again, the planet of his father's birth would most certainly be destroyed, the last space fairing remnants of humanity then hunted down till the species was completely obliterated. If successful, Lorian knew there was a good probability that he, his crew, and most gutwrenching of all, his four wonderful daughters, would suddenly disappear into nonexistent nothingness. And all of it was focused on him. His decisions made whatever future was to come.

But right now, his mind was clear, free floating, organizing the day's events, as it had done since childhood, nearly every evening of his life.

"Father?" a voice called out to him, and Lorian's eyes snapped open.

Looking around his quarters, he found his youngest daughter standing in his doorway. "What are you doing onboard? Get back to the transporter room and have Lieutenant Mayweather beam you back down to Kotook. Enterprise is getting underway in less than half an hour. I'll message your mother before we leave. I'm sure she'll want to discuss this stow away attempt with you in further detail. I know I most definitely will when I return."

Suddenly Jomala rushed her father, throwing her arms around him, hugging him for dear life. "But you won't, Father! You're not going to return! You're not going to be born! You're not going to be anything!"

Startled, Lorian patted his child's thick raven hair, an exact copy of her mother's, in an attempt to comfort her. Obviously Jomala had come to the conclusion he and his wife had about the possibilities of a rearranged timeline and was in a state of panic over their mutual potential demise. "We don't know that. There's as good a chance that if we succeed, and Enterprise isn't thrown into the past, we'll all be just fine and dandy. That will double our chances of saving Earth. What's gotten into you, Jo? Your mother and I explained the realities of my mission to you and your sisters years ago. This isn't a new revelation."

"No, Father, you don't understand. A Suliban came into my room an hour ago, when I was just finishing my studies for the day. He said his name was Silik, that his benefactor from the 29th century had sent him here, because the future me made a deal with him to save you and everyone aboard our Enterprise. His benefactor gave him instructions on how to go about making our Enterprise temporally stable, so that you don't get caught up in the timeline reset and disappear. He wants to meet with you in person, Father. Please meet with him! I don't want to be saved from erasure by the Daniels and his Temporal Agents only to have to live with you gone forever! Please Father, I know he's a creepy, but at least hear him out. Please," Jomala begged, having regained her composure with the disciplines her grandmother had taught her, only to loose it again at the prospect of her father refusing to even meet with Silik.

A chill went down Lorian's spine at the mention of Silik, the Suliban, and the mysterious man from the 29th century who pulled their strings. Before Jonathan Archer had passed away, he'd directed Lorian to several files in the Captain's logs as well as his personal one. Upon his death, the logs had transferred to Lorian, and as promised, he'd read them thoroughly. Much of what was written before they'd been stranded in the past was on the Temporal Cold War, as well as a listing of all the factions and players Archer had known about.

Silik had been referenced several times, and in a very unsavory light. The mere idea that Jomala had had contact with him chilled Lorian to the bone, and what was worse, Lorian couldn't construct any other logical explanation as to where she had heard the name in reference to the Suliban and their anonymous benefactor from the 29th century, or the Temporal Agent, Daniels, unless what she was saying were true. The files on the Temporal Cold War were still only accessible to Enterprise' Captain. The only persons other than Lorian to know their contents were his second in command, Karyn Archer, his mother, T'Pol, and his wife, Matayara, and the last only knew the broad strokes of the Temporal Cold War. He'd never mentioned Silik's name to her and his mother and Karyn would also never reveal what they knew, especially not to his children.

"Go find Karyn, let her know what's going on, and tell her I said to let you use the comm to contact Silik. Also mention we'll going to be holding off on our departure. I'll meet with Silik. I'm not promising anything, but I'll meet with him," Lorian acquiesced. Patting Jomala gently on the back, Lorian moved to the smaller communications console in the captain's quarters and then opened a channel to his wife.

Matayara wasn't happy about having Jomala leave Kotook with her father, but when he'd informed her of his reasons and what Jomala had told him, she'd agreed wholeheartedly. As much as she trusted Maranda's forces to protect her little sister, Matayara knew Aplacian security wasn't nearly as tight as on Enterprise, and their weapons not nearly as effective.

She also knew she had to collect her three other daughters and send them with their father and sisters. They were Lorian's children and if he was to be erased, her research suggested they would be too. If this Suliban intended to save her husband and youngest daughter, perhaps if Maranda, Amitana, and Balasara were in close proximity to them, he would be forced to save them as well. And perhaps such a scenario could also be used to twist the arm of this Temporal Agent, Daniels. Her family needed to be together on this, and what's more, her husband would need her expertise on temporal philosophy to effectively negotiate with this Silik. Despite every instinct to remain on Kotook, she would go with her family. The only thing that had moved her parents to leave Aplacia III had been their desire to see her and her siblings alive, to give their people a future, even if it wasn't in their beloved village, and they had left their homes forever. How could she not leave Kotook temporarily for her own children's sake?

"I'm rounding up Mara, Ami, and Bala. We're all coming with you, and that's final," Matayara informed her husband, allowing him no recourse to talk her out of the decision. As a result he merely nodded in understanding. They'd see each other in a few minutes; they'd discuss it then.


	19. Chapter 19: Resetting

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This chapter of the story takes place shortly before and during the events of 'E2'. However, most of this story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. Again, this story is branching into AU territory, but I am attempting to keep as much of canon as stable as possible. I know a lot of fans aren't too big on that, but for me, the stability of canon is a big deal. However, some mistakes are too great to ignore.

**Living Beyond**

Part 17

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Commander Charles Tucker III woke from the pain of a crick in his neck, only remembering it as due to 13 nonstop hours of work yesterday in a cramped relay junction. And there was far more to do today. In two days and a handful of hours from now they would meet Degra, and maybe, just maybe stop this infernal conflict with the Xindi, before they could destroy Earth with their second superweapon. There was no rest for the wicked, although, last night, he'd gotten six hours of sleep, something he hadn't done since the damage Enterprise had sustained at Azati Prime. Unfortunately, he was certain, T'Pol hadn't rested as well as he had, despite all her extra meditation these days.

She'd said she was fine, but he knew she hated to admit to weakness. She was Vulcan; he was human. He could be excused of emotional reactions to the hellishness of war and loss. She had to conquer them, and deny they even existed. He understood the first part. He'd seen what she'd been like under the influence of Trellium D when they'd encountered the Seleya. An out of control Vulcan was a serious threat to anyone and everyone around them; he got that. What he didn't get was why the feelings they controlled so tightly couldn't even be acknowleged verbally. Even if they had to be totally suppressed, why did their existence have to be denied?

Deciding he had too much work to get done to ponder the intricacies of the Vulcan psyche right now, he headed into the shower to begin his day.

The second he started to lather his hair, the Captain's voice issued over the comm. "Commanders Tucker and T'Pol, report to the conference room in ten minutes. Archer out."

Sighing, Trip quickly rinsed the shampoo out, toweled off, and then jumped into his clothing, his hair very damp and sticking to his scalp. He barely made it to the conference room in time. However, the moment he did arrive, his worry over what his poor ship would be put through next morphed into supreme annoyance, annoyance, with a name, Daniels. "Ah Hell! As if we don't have enough problems already!"

"But Commander Tucker, this new problem is one of your own making, or more precisely yours and Commander T'Pol's." Daniels quipped, winking at the Engineer, whose eyes darted to the Vulcan already seated and then blushed when he considered all Daniels could possibly know about them.

"Please explain," T'Pol responded, looking completely unabashed.

"Yes, please do," Archer added, impatiently. He had a meeting to get to with Degra, not to mention a consultation with Reed and T'Pol about entering the subspace corridor that would get them to the Xindi council's location.

"Not all temporal incursions are intentional. Occasionally individuals traverse time accidentally, and when they do, time usually finds a way to correct the error naturally, unless the individuals in the past decide to intentionally alter events once they find themselves there, but in those circumstances, my team usually takes care of that quickly," Daniels began, the pride he felt in his work shining through.

"That's nice to know, but this ship is being held together by paperclips, hair gel, and bubble gum at the moment, and in two days we're going into the heart of Xindi territory. We don't have the time for exposition, so please just tell us what you need from us this time, and if it won't get in the way of our primary mission, we'll help you out," Archer insisted. They all had far too much to do to sit around in the conference room and discuss time travel.

"I'm trying, Captain, but even in my time, this is a longer than usual conversation. Now, one of these accidental incursions will happen within the next two days. In the original history, you and your crew went out of your way to make sure the timeline was protected. I'll admit I was quite proud of you for that. As a result of your enlightened efforts, nature sealed the temporal fissure quickly and neatly. However, the residual consequences of this incident weren't so neat, and unable to accept those consequences, one of Commanders T'Pol and Tucker's granddaughters has made a deal with the Suliban's benefactor to disrupt the temporal healing from occurring. She wishes to keep the fissure open, to allow the second, unnatural, timeline to continue bleeding into this one, for personal reasons," Daniels explained, hoping Archer would understand the gravity of the situation, and also hoping he didn't have to explain further about Jomala Tucker's personal concerns.

"Wait a minute, did you say Granddaughters? T'Pol and I are gonna get hitched and have kids in this other timeline?" Trip asked, trying to sound concerned, but elation radiating his features. He and T'Pol had a future together, a future that included children and grandchildren. He'd assumed that if he chose to spend the rest of his life with T'Pol, having children of their own, continuations of the Tucker bloodline, would be one of the sacrifices he'd have to make, although one he'd be willing to make for a life with T'Pol. Now, he was learning he could have it all, the woman he loved and babies and grandbabies of their very own. This was the best news he'd heard since entering the expanse, and yet he knew Daniels wouldn't be here unless there was a catch.

"Yes, you have four granddaughters, but it is the youngest, Jomala, that's the threat. She's, to quote your Captain, 'screwing' with the timeline, and trying to alter history to her own ends. She's seventeen years old, and isn't thinking rationally. She only wants what she wants, and she's willing to destroy innumerable lives in the future to get it," Daniels explained, not wanting to risk loosing Tucker's support. The man psyche profile deemed him extremely family oriented, making him the least likely to assist in preserving the correct timeline.

"Then why come to us? Why can't you just take care of this yourself?" Trip asked, Daniels last words confusing him. His granddaughter couldn't be so callous as to risk innocent lives merely for personal gain. That wasn't the way a Tucker behaved. They might be overemotional, but not to the point of mass murder. Daniels must not be telling them something.

"I wish I could, but Jomala Tucker is as vital to history as Captain Archer is. I have to stop her without actually harming her or interfering with her destiny. I'm hoping, being family, the Commanders might be able to convince her as to why she needs to accept history as it was meant to be. Get her to mourn, rather than rage. She's made a deal with the devil, and she, as well as countless others, will be damned if she succeeds," Daniels insisted. He knew he was walking a fine line with all the information he was doling out, but he had no choice. His recent efforts, a year from now aboard Kotook, had made the situation worse, not better. He felt like he was trudging through molasses, but for the future's sake he had to continue.

Before anyone could respond, Hoshi Sato's voice came through the comm. Loud and clear, and very confused. "Captain, there's a ship approaching us, it's hailing us on a Star Fleet channel… and it appears to be an X class."

"Columbia?" Archer asked, looking at Daniels, who only shook his head in the negative.

"Put it on screen. I'll be right there," Archer replied to his communications officer, before standing with his first officer and chief engineer.

"Captain…" Daniels began but was cut off.

"I'm sorry, but I have a war to go fight. Like I said before, we'll help you so long as doing so doesn't interfere with our stopping the Xindi weapon and saving Earth," Captain Archer informed the time traveler. Then without another word, he and his officers left the room, heading for the bridge.


	20. Chapter 20: Fuming in a Void

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This chapter of the story takes place shortly before and during the events of 'E2'. However, most of this story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. Again, this story is branching into AU territory, but I am attempting to keep as much of canon as stable as possible. I know a lot of fans aren't too big on that, but for me, the stability of canon is a big deal. However, some mistakes are too great to ignore.

**Living Beyond**

Part 18

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

"I can't believe they locked me in here with you! No offense, Grandmother," Jomala annotated, not wanting to be disrespectful to the elderly Vulcan, but also mad as hell at her parents for leaving her with T'Pol to act as babysitter, while they and Karyn dealt with Silik, and by now, Captain Archer as well.

"Your emotions are beginning to overwhelm you, Jomala. You must regain control of them before they control you," T'Pol stated plainly, babyhood mantras running through her 182 year old, panar and trellium ravaged brain. She may have adapted many human customs and ways, but she would always be Vulcan.

"I can't! Father's life is at stake! He's your son, your only child! How can you just sit there, and be so calm?!" Jomala replied, near panic.

T'Pol rose from her chair and gently grabbed her youngest grandchild's arm. "Because I accept that there is nothing I can do under the circumstances. Jomala, you must cast out fear."

""There is no room for anything else until you cast out fear". I remember what you've taught me, Grandmother, but memorization of Surak's teachings does not a Vulcan make. I have to find my own balance between logic and emotion, like father has," Jomala explained delicately.

She loved her Grandmother, despite being so radically different from her. Still a part of her also understood Amitana's perspective. Grandmother was Vulcan, and Vulcans expected their offspring to live their lives in a certain way. T'Pol was far more flexible than most Vulcans, but there were still some lines she forbade her family members to cross.

Jomala knew the journal entries Silik had given her, from her future self, transmitted through his benefactor, would likely make her look as bad as Amitana in Grandmother's eyes. The Orions were murderous scum, and the Jomala of nine months hence was willingly working for them, helping them get their ships under way so they could go out and ruin lives all over the galaxy. She couldn't understand her future self. She didn't want to become the person who wrote those entries. Yet, on some level, she knew the journal wasn't fabricated. She had sent them to herself as a warning.

But the journal had also inspired the anger of the future from the girl in the past. She could feel it coursing through her veins at this very moment. She was scared and mournful, but bubbling within those feelings was potent, unequivocal, rage. How dare Daniels and his people let her father die! If her father had died in battle, that was one thing. Aplacians weren't warriors, but their history texts told of past wars. They understood the need to fight, and if necessary, die for the principles you believe in. Her father had always made it plain that defending Earth had to come first, and while the idea had always saddened her and filled her with dread, she knew she could have lived with it.

But her father hadn't died heroically. He'd died a meaningless death, from a temporal anomaly. Jomala couldn't allow it to happen this time. Father and Karyn were probably negotiating with Archer right now. They were aboard Archer's Enterprise, telling him how to go around the subspace corridor and not get trapped in the past, while Silik and the five other Suliban that had come with him were in a cargo bay on this vessel, setting up the equipment they'd brought with them to stabilize the ship and everyone aboard when time reset. Jomala's gut told her she needed to monitor both events. She didn't trust the Silik and as much as it pained her to admit it, she didn't trust Archer, at least not with her father's life.

"Jomala, your father is smart and resourceful. I trust in him; otherwise I wouldn't have agreed to be locked in here with you, while he went to speak with Jonathan," T'Pol explained, pouring herself some tea and a cup for her granddaughter.

Tears gently sprung to Jomala's eyes as she realized why she was so anxious. "I'm not sure I trust Father anymore. He's Vulcan. Vulcans put the needs of the many above the needs of the few or the one. If Archer or that Daniels man convinced him there were enough lives on the line to construct a many out of, he'd accept a meaningless death to save them. I don't trust you either, for the same reason. I love you, Grandmother, with all my heart, but I don't trust you at this moment."

"Yet you trust the Suliban; you trust Silik?" T'Pol asked, worry written on her face, despite her attempts to suppress it.

"I trust Silik and the other Suliban to do whatever is in their benefactor's best interests. Right now, that happens to also serve my ends. I'm not a fool; I know that might change, but right now, it's my only hope for a good outcome. If I want to stay on top of this, I need to be outside this room. I need to oversee the building of the temporal stabilizer, to make sure that's what the Suliban are actually building, and the only thing they're building. I need to make my presence known on Archer's ship, to make sure no Temporal Agents are whispering in his ear, and to undermine any that are. Waiting here with you will just let my enemies have an easier time while they betray me," Jomala tentatively took the cup of tea from her grandmother's withered hand, and sipped, wiping her eyes as the warm liquid slid down her throat.

"And what would you do if the Suliban were trying to build something other than a temporal stabilizer or if Agent Daniels or his like were trying to influence Jonathan?" T'Pol asked, sipping from her own cup, attempting to get Jomala to talk. Humans always seemed to feel better when they talked things through, as did Aplacians. Hopefully Jomala's emotional equilibrium would return as she did.

"I'd tell Father or Karyn if the Suliban were backstabbing us, and Father and his crew would take them down. Even with all their genetically-enhanced tricks, we outnumber them twenty to one, we know the ship better than they do, and if that failed, Captain Archer would likely help us. If it were Archer that was working against us, I'd go to him personally and try to reason with him, let him hear my side of the story. He's very reasonable man; you've said so yourself. He won't give up Father and the crew here just because some time traveler tells him to," Jomala explained, taking a dried apple slice from the small bowl her grandmother had set out for her, her mood slowly improving.

Perhaps she could convince her grandmother to allow her access to her computer. Then she could monitor the Suliban, and if necessary, hack into the transporters and beam herself out of here. Not that she would do that, unless it was a life or death situation. Otherwise, it would be her own death, as her parents would kill her.

"You can present your case in a few moments. I've asked Karyn to bring Jonathan here, as soon as she can. I need to speak with him about your Father's plan," T'Pol replied, eyeing Jomala's reaction to the news, as expected, her face lit up.

Jumping to her feet, Jomala threw her arms around T'Pol, knowing that unlike Aplacian women at her physical age, a strong hug would not hurt a Vulcan. They were made of sterner stuff. "Grandmother, you're the greatest! Once I speak with him, I _KNOW_ Captain Archer will side with us! He may hate Silik, but he loves you and Grandfather Trip more!"

And as soon as she had him squared away, she would return to Cargo Bay 3 to make sure the Suliban were behaving as well. Yes, now Jomala felt much better.


	21. Chapter 21: Contemplations

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This chapter of the story takes place shortly before and during the events of 'E2'. However, most of this story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. Again, this story is branching into AU territory, but I am attempting to keep as much of canon as stable as possible. I know a lot of fans aren't too big on that, but for me, the stability of canon is a big deal. However, some mistakes are too great to ignore. 

Living Beyond

Part 19

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Jonathan Archer sat at his desk awaiting Lorian's arrival. The man confused him. He'd spent his entire time on Enterprise working to get the ship fitted with Jomala's recommended alterations to allow Captain Archer make it through the subspace corridor, and yet he failed to mention the potential flaws in the plan, or anything about his own situation, facing oblivion due to a temporal paradox.

The door chime beeped and, expecting Lorian, Archer gave a perfunctory "Come in."

Instead, his visitor was Daniels. "Captain, I hear you went to visit with Miss Tucker this afternoon."

"I thought you said your people didn't monitor the timeline that closely," Archer countered, his frustration at being treated like an ignorant child by this man, just because he came from a few centuries in the past, beginning to break through.

"No need to monitor the timeline when one of your colleagues owns an original, paper, autographed copy of Jomala Tucker's autobiography. Passages in chapter 2 keep changing. We've already read four different versions this week alone," Daniels responded, running a hand through his receding hairline.

"Well, I'm sorry if I'm interrupting your bedtime reading, but I didn't go to the other Enterprise to meet with Jomala. I went to meet with T'Pol, who was watching Jomala for Lorian, you know, Lorian, Jomala's father, the man you're trying make sure is erased from history," Archer growled, three years of repressed anger at Daniels beginning to surface.

"Jonathan, I don't like this situation any more than you do, but…" Daniels began before being cut off by the hiss of the door opening.

"I hope you don't mind, I've never changed the door code myself," Lorian explained his unmarked entry.

"No problem. Crewman Daniels and I were just finishing up here," Archer insisted, hardening his words in Daniels' direction to make his point and alert Lorian as to just who was in his presence.

"Crewman Daniels, the Temporal Agent from the 31st century?" Lorian asked cautiously, mixed emotions forcing him to stop and identify each one, before he could compartmentalize each and decide on how to respond. This man placed his ship and crew in danger, and ultimately had brought pain and mindless rage to his children, yet he knew he had to remain thinking logically if he was to protect everything he cherished.

"Yes," Daniels admitted, not able to look the half Vulcan, half Human man before him. He had never lied to Jonathan Archer. He hated this part of his job, ensuring that innocent persons died as they were meant to in the original history. Not all violators of the temporal accords were factions in the Cold War. Many were grieving relatives or individuals with guilty consciences, who saw time travel and historical manipulation as a means to unburden their souls or regain a lost loved one. Undoing the damage they'd caused in the past often resulted in death for those that the unauthorized time traveler had attempted to save. Sometimes he wished time travel had never been discovered, but wishing didn't change the fact that it had, the first few cases being accidents of time, like this man's life.

"I'm sorry we're forced to meet under these circumstances, but I will not surrender my crew, my family, or my ship in order to secure you a victory in your Temporal Cold War," Lorian stated firmly, nothing but Vulcan calm in his voice.

"I understand, and I sympathize, but I also have lives to protect in my time as well. I too wish we could have met under better conditions," Daniels replied. He understood very well where this man was coming from. They were both men of duty and personal honor, but sadly, only one of them could prevail. Nodding, he left Jonathan Archer's office, so that the two men could talk. He had work to get done and remaining here would only make that work more difficult to carry out.

"He's earnest," Lorian commented as he came to stand in front of Archer's desk.

"Yes, he is, but what about you, Lorian? Why didn't you inform me that my ship could be destroyed if we went forward with your plan," Archer questioned, truly not understanding the man's motivations, but upset that he would risk Enterprise with such a high margin of error.

"The risk was within acceptable limits, considering the price of failure is getting stuck in the past again, and ultimately Earth's destruction. One thing that is for certain, you'll be thrown into the past, if you try to use the corridor," Lorian calmly replied. His withholding the information had been logical. There had been no need to worry the highly emotional Jonathan Archer if there were no other practical alternatives.

"You know, I'm getting really sick and tired of people telling me what my future is going to be, as if they know everything! Now, your mother… both of them, tell me there's a way to reconfigure the impulse manifolds on Enterprise to prevent destabilization." Archer shot back. This was still his century. He was still Enterprise' captain. This was still his, and only his, decision.

"You're going to put this ship at risk over a 1.9 percent margin of error, when my mother's plan starts with a 6 probability of failure, and that's assuming the Kovalans don't attack and disable your impulse manifolds, which would make the whole endeavor mute?" Lorian asked incredulously. Archer could be unpredictable, but this was reckless.

"What are you talking about 1.9 percent? Your mother said it was slightly over 22 percent," Archer asked, confused.

Lorian sighed deeply, as if trying to control very volatile emotions in the moment, disappointment won out. "Jomala didn't inform you that she's spent the past two days reworking some of her equations, and that she's found and minimized the glitch in our original calculations, did she?"

"No, but in her defense, she was more concerned with protecting you and your Enterprise. All she could talk about was how much she loved you and how good a father you've been to her, and how many wonderful her friends she has on board your ship. Your mother cleared her out of the room before discussing her plan with me," Jonathan Archer smiled, remembering the conversation.

"When Jo conquers one challenge, she moves on to the next, and rarely looks back. Still, she should have apprised her grandmother of her findings. She now has the risk level down to 1.9 percent, although she won't tell me where she got the extra data so quickly," Lorian stated, his mind now working on this new puzzle.

Ever since Jomala was small, he couldn't take a single action in regards to her without thinking of every way she could manipulate the situation to her advantage. When he'd locked her in with his mother this morning, he'd also had Greer monitor her life signs with internal sensors, fearing she'd find some means to escape, maybe order up a transport, or unlock the door from the inside, even without the new code known only by him, his mother, and Karyn. Lorian had always loved his youngest child's resourcefulness, but sometimes it was exhausting work keeping up with it. He also worried that the time was coming when it would evolve beyond his and his wife's means of successfully monitoring it, and that she wasn't yet mature enough to handle the unchecked power. Perhaps his mother's suggestion to have Jomala apply to the Vulcan Science Academy's engineering program wasn't so far fetched. With warp theorists over two centuries old, and Kolinar masters, working together, perhaps she could learn enough discipline not to blow herself up before she reached forty.

"Have her bring the new numbers to T'Pol… my ship's T'Pol. We've already expended considerable time and energy in the refit, so if Jomala's work pans out, we'll go with your original plan," Archer conceded.


	22. Chapter 22: Footsteps

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This chapter of the story takes place shortly before and during the events of 'E2'. However, most of this story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. Again, this story is branching into AU territory, but I am attempting to keep as much of canon as stable as possible. I know a lot of fans aren't too big on that, but for me, the stability of canon is a big deal. However, some mistakes are too great to ignore.

**Living Beyond**

Part 20

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Charles Tucker III worked happily on his engines, the fact that they were in the middle of a war meaning very little to him at this particular moment. He had a son, other timeline and nearly three times his age, or not, he had one, and four granddaughters to boot, one of which was headed for the greatest greatness any Engineer of the 22nd century could imagine. Right now Enterprise was barely at 5.5, and only due to his constant retooling. Right now Jomala had modifications to make Enterprise travel at 6.9 if only briefly, with a more sustainable cruising speed of Warp 6, and in less than a century, she'd have them all going at just a smidge under Warp 10, on an Enterprise that held five times the current model's capacity. Trip could scarcely imagine the places those future explorers would see or the adventures they'd experience, but to know that his own granddaughter would bring that to the people of Earth and this supposed Federation made him near dizzy with pride.

"Here's the data you requested on the last 18 completed diagnostics of the plasma emitters," T'Pol informed her colleague, not sure she could handle one of their usual banter sessions right after recent events.

"Thank you, Darlin'. I was getting a bit antsy waiting on them," Trip replied, the permanent smile plastered to his face widening at the data and the woman who had brought it to him. He had begun falling in love with her over the past several months, but it wasn't until she'd shot him down over their one night of passion, did he realize he was in so deep.

Now, faced with the prospect of their having a family together, all fear and confusion over what their relationship meant was being replaced by the tenderest of feelings for her. He felt like he was gently floating safely rather than pin wheeling in freefall, but he also knew that what was making him feel stronger and more secure was likely having the opposite affect on the Vulcan. He wanted to let her know she wasn't alone in her feelings, and he wanted her to know he wasn't just going away, especially now. Now it wasn't just them. It was their family.

"You're welcome, Commander," T'Pol stated, turning to leave this time. He was staring at her intensely, barely glancing at the data before him. She knew he was quite efficient at multitasking and that with his impressive intellect, he'd probably already absorbed the information he'd needed form the report, but that didn't excuse the boldly affectionate manner his eyes were fixed on her in now.

"So, it's back to 'Commander' again. I thought, being as we now have a son and four granddaughters, we'd be on a first name basis more of the time," Tucker stated, searching her face for some spark, some opening to begin talking about what this meant for them.

"In that case, I remind you, my first name is T'Pol, not Darling," T'Pol replied, unable to stop herself from challenging him. As she feared the moment the words had escaped from her lips, the fair-haired human took her retort as encouragement.

"Whatever you say, Darlin'… I mean T'Pol," Trip replied, smiling at her obvious annoyance. He loved arguing with her. It was how they'd first gotten to know each other, and it was still fun.

"Commander, I'm needed on the bridge. If you have…" T'Pol began again, intentionally hardening her first word, to teach him a lesson, when a teenaged girl approached her with a datapad. Seeing the girl's pointed ears, and remembering Daniels' warnings, she had to assume this was Jomala.

"Excuse me, but my father said Captain Archer wanted me to bring my new calculations down and review them with you. They'll reduce the chance of injector overload to 1.9 percent, well within Star Fleet's safety range. Due to the more precise algorithms involved, they'll also require an additional hour and a half to calibrate. Captain Archer said that if you approve them, we should begin implementing them, Gra… Commander T'Pol," Jomala quickly corrected herself, as she handed over her datapad. This wasn't her grandmother. This was Commander T'Pol, the woman who would have become her grandmother, if she'd gotten stuck 117 years in the past this morning. Jomala chastised herself for nearly forgetting. If she was gonna play with the temporal big boys she had to start thinking in four dimensions all the time.

Trip chuckled lightly, catching Jomala's attention. He looked so young, compared to Father, but she could see in his eyes that he already worshiped her, the way Father did. "You must be the little troublemaker who has Daniels' trousers in a twist."

"I prefer the term Temporal Anarchist, but yes, I am," Jomala quipped sweetly, smiling just as broadly as her grandfather. She liked him already.

"I like her already. So, T'Pol, what you think of the calculations; they meet with your approval?" Trip asked, trying to peer over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of what was on the pad.

"Intriguing… How did you develop this new data in only a few hours? Even top Vulcan mathematicians do not work this quickly, and their computer networks are far superior than what is found on either Enterprise," T'Pol queried, scanning the information on the pad as she spoke.

"I didn't develop them over a single day. That's almost ten months of hard work," Jomala explained, not wanting to go further with her explanation.

"Then why did you give the older, less specific, data to your father if you knew those calculations weren't precise enough to pull this off safely?" Trip asked, now confused by the girl's actions. His instincts told him she was hiding something, but he had no idea what.

"I said I spent nearly ten months working on the revisions. I never said those ten months were in my past," Jomala finally answered, giving up the ghost of trying to hide where she'd gotten her leg up on the data. Besides, they had given her vital information, that the Temporal Agent, Daniels was already involved and working against her. He was probably already trying to turn them against her. Lying would not win her grandparents' trust, but maybe the truth would.


	23. Chapter 23: Reasoning

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This chapter of the story takes place shortly before and during the events of 'E2'. However, most of this story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. Again, this story is branching into AU territory, but I am attempting to keep as much of canon as stable as possible. I know a lot of fans aren't too big on that, but for me, the stability of canon is a big deal. However, some mistakes are too great to ignore.

**Living Beyond**

Part 21

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Matayara sat, brushing her youngest daughter's unruly black hair. It was her own hair all right, just as hard to manage with a brush, and just as provocative. Despite her apparent lack of interest in her own femininity, Matayara suspected Jomala kept her hair long and curly, despite the difficulty in binding and pinning it daily, as an attempt to be pleasing to the eyes of the young men that frequented the station.

Matayara smiled at the thought of how Lorian loved it when she'd unbind it after a long day, and it would spill down over her naked skin as she climbed in the shower. Her husband would usually follow her in, thoroughly besotted at that point. She was so lucky to have him. She worried her four daughters might not fare as well, marriage-wise, and wished her people weren't so close-minded about interspecies mating.

When she chose Lorian as her mate, her family, which was far more enlightened than most on Kotook, was overjoyed. Their only concern had been about the discrimination the couple would face, but Lorian's crew was already well respected on Kotook, particularly among the elders who had spent most of their lives on Aplacia III, only to watch much of the atmosphere ripped off their beloved homeworld, by an anomaly, caused by the Spherebuilders' infernal machinery, as their ships puttered away from the planet of their birth. Archer had informed the elders upon his first visit that the Spherebuilders were trying to goad the Xindi into destroying his homeworld, Earth, and that Enterprise now planned on destroying the spheres, as well as stopping a second attack on there. After learning all this, the elders let it be known that Enterprise and her crew were to receive the benefits of family by all on Kotook and well as the 80 other space stations the Aplacian people had built during their evacuation, so that in some small way the Aplacian people could share in victory over the transdimensional sadists who had taken their world from them and forced them into exile. Still, despite Lorian's stature on Kotook, he was still an outsider, and there had always been whispers about the 'unnaturalness' of their union.

Despite having brushed off the criticism over the years, Matayara had a particularly sour opinion of that word 'unnatural', not so much for the personal insult, but for the fact that all her training told her it was the antithesis of interspecies mating. Interspecies mating was the epitome of natural. The fundamental rules of natural selection that played out in most sentient races were taken to a new level in the creation of hybrids. When interstellar spaceflight became your reality, you could choose genes for your offspring that your ancestors could only have wished for. Not that she had chosen Lorian for his genome, he was so compassionate, he understood her in a way that nobody ever had, and truth be told, he was sexy as heck, but Matayara had always known that their children were bound to be exceptional, having the best genes from three planets. She had always been proud of them, but now, looking at Jomala and knowing what Lorian had told her about the future, it was further validation that her beautiful daughters were more perfect than any sentient persons had ever been. Kissing the top of Jomala's head, Matayara placed the hairbrush on husband's nightstand. "All done."

Jomala however, didn't move from her place at the side of her father's bed. "Mother do you think I was wrong not to tell Father or Captain Archer about the journals Silik gave me?"

"As with everything, it depends on why you did it," Matayara replied, using the enigma of intention to draw her daughter out of her thoughts enough to verbalize them.

"I know everyone _thinks_ I did it for selfish purposes, to further my ends in saving Father, but that's not the reason. Telling them wouldn't have hurt or helped Father," Jomala explained.

"Then why did you do it?" Matayara asked, pulling her daughter up to the bed with her, and wordlessly encouraging Jomala to rest her head against her mother's shoulder.

"I wanted to help save Earth. I mean, much of the journal explains how the expanse was dissipating, due to Enterprise destroying Sphere 41, and, as a result, Kotook was booming with visitors and ships I've never seen before. If Captain Archer knows he's gonna succeed in stopping the Xindi weapon and the Spherebuilders' plans, he might get sloppy and not succeed this time around. Then Earth would be destroyed and it would be my fault for giving Captain Archer false assurances. It's like my own situation in a way; the Temporal Agents think that by letting Father and Karyn and everybody get erased they're gonna have an easier future, but sometimes easier isn't better. Like that existential statement from Earth, 'Sometimes the journey is more important than the destination'. Maybe, without Father I can't succeed in building engines that reach warp 9.9? Why can't Daniels see Father and the rest as necessary evils, and work from there? It might be more difficult to get the rest of history to go the way they want it too, but Enterprise people are good people. Maybe if the Temporal Agents were to help the descendents of Father's crew instead of trying to neutralize them, the 31st century would turn out even better when Daniels goes home," Jomala explained with a sigh.

"Or maybe it wouldn't be?" Matayara countered. Jomala was rarely introspective, and Matayara had had a beast of a time imparting her own field of study on her youngest, when her father offered her warp coils and power relays. It was selfish, but she had waited too long to have conversations like this with her daughter.

"Well then, he doesn't have enough faith in his precious Federation or his Temporal Accords, and thus deserves to watch them both unravel. The future is what we, the people who live in the present, make it. Daniels and his people are trying to short circuit that. If he wanted to help us with advice, that's fine, but he's interfering with our actions. I think that's why I must have been willing to go to the Suliban's benefactor for help. Neither is morally better than the other; they just have different objectives," Jomala replied with the idealistic assurance that only being a teenager can produce.

"It must be nice to be so sure of yourself," Matayara stated as she gently stroked her daughter's hair.

"It is," Jomala stated with a smart aleck smile. She knew her mother wanted to continue this philosophical debate, but she was having dinner, in the adolescents' dormitory, with all her friends from Enterprise, in half an hour. She had to get dressed.

Turning off his computer, Jonathan Archer looked over at the blonde woman in front of him, and sighed. "I can't condone your planting a listening device on your sister, but you've made your point."

Maranda smiled, glad she had Captain Archer's support. When her father had told her that Jomala had withheld information from them, she knew a man like Jonathan Archer would suddenly begin thinking the worst. She knew Jomala was coming off like a villain, and to tell the truth, Archer had far more reason to trust Daniels than he did Jo. Hopefully, planting a bug in her youngest sister's boots had convinced him that Jomala was only trying to do what was best for everyone. Thankfully, their mother had played her role to perfection. Ofcourse, it was she who had planned the whole thing. If Jomala was cunning, she came by it naturally, as did Maranda herself.


	24. Chapter 24: Planning Stage

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This chapter of the story takes place shortly before and during the events of 'E2'. However, most of this story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. Again, this story is branching into AU territory, but I am attempting to keep as much of canon as stable as possible. I know a lot of fans aren't too big on that, but for me, the stability of canon is a big deal. However, some mistakes are too great to ignore.

**Living Beyond**

Part 22

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Jomala Tucker patted her full stomach and smiled. Dinner with all her old friends had been divine. She missed them when Father was a way, although not nearly as much as she missed Father. Still, she knew if they all made it through this, and she did leave Kotook, she would miss Mother and her sisters just as much. But, from what she'd read, that was an integral aspect of becoming an adult, leaving parents and striking out into the universe as a competent, fully formed, individual. That didn't make it any easier, but at least she knew it wasn't aberrant behavior on her part.

Still, becoming an adult soon meant Jomala had to make some tough choices about her life. Before Silik had entered her life, it had all seemed so certain. She'd either be temporally erased with Father and her sisters, in which case, she'd never actually become an adult, so the case would be settled there. However, if she and her family weren't erased, her plans had been to build a new generational ship with her father and his crew, and go exploring with them, once the Xindi threat had passed.

In reality, there wasn't any place in the galaxy that they'd all be welcome. Earth was a bust. Too many of Enterprise's descendants were part extraterrestrial, and looked it. Xenophobia was no stranger to Sol's only life bearing world. Then there was the refusal of the Vulcan Science Directorate to acknowledge time travel, which meant that if Earth wanted to remain on good terms with Vulcan's scientists, and keep receiving technological assistance from them, they'd have to tow the temporal party line. Star Fleet in particular wasn't going to risk its Vulcan contacts to let a bunch of mongrels into its ranks, and truth be told, none of Enterprise's full time residence had any real skills outside those Star Fleet and Earth's MACO units deemed necessary, so settling down permanently on a Minshara class world and creating a colony wasn't an option either.

Jomala remembered her grandmother telling her and her friends how she didn't believe in time travel, because the Vulcan Science Directorate had researched the matter extensively and concluded that it was impossible. At the time, they'd all been aghast, considering they all were the product of time travel, and Grandmother T'Pol had been there at the beginning, when Enterprise had been trapped in the past. Only now did Jomala realize what her grandmother had been trying to teach her and her friends with that statement. Despite having lived the most fulfilling years of her life, before she'd technically been born, Grandmother T'Pol understood that there were some things adults didn't publicly acknowledge a belief in, even when their evidence was central to their day-to-day lives. Dissembling and convenient half-truths could be logical if they served logical ends.

Take for example the half-truth the children of Archer's Enterprise often espoused; Earth was their home. It wasn't and would never be, but the logical end wasn't building a life on a planet that wouldn't want them, but saving that planet from being decimated and billions of innocent lives destroyed. Earth was the beginning of their journey, not necessarily its end.

The generational ship she and father planned on building would give his people a home to live and grow, after their 117-year mission came to an end, but with her new knowledge of the brilliant destiny that was supposed to be hers Jomala had to wonder whether or not it should necessarily be _her _home. Kotook gave her the opportunity to see and pull apart engines on vessels from all over, but didn't provide much formalized training and thus would make publication and getting her work noticed difficult. The Vulcan Science Academy would give her greater resources and more advanced warp theory specialists to learn from, and so long as she applied as a non-Vulcan, and shared some of her own discoveries in engine design, she shouldn't have any problem getting one of the spots reserved for offworlders with exceptional gifts. Star Fleet offered safety, in a comfortingly familiar lifestyle, noble ideals, and great medical benefits. Sure you risked getting blown up by a Klingon, but the rules of a Star Fleet life were direct, easy to follow, and left room for personal relationships, something a life as a highly admired researcher on Vulcan wouldn't. Jomala began to realize that building a Warp 9.9 engine could be mere child's play compared to building the life that would ultimately bring her to that great discovery.

As she entered Cargo Bay 3, Jomala forced herself to refocus on the task at hand. None of these potential paths in life would be of any use if she didn't keep a close eye on the Suliban, especially their leader, Silik, who was, at the moment, reading a pad with intense concentration and a bit of confusion. Understandable, as the device Silik had been ordered to create was centuries more advanced than any of them. Even she didn't completely understand the nuances, other than the fact that the Chronoton field that would surround her father's ship would pull them out of phase with all parallel timeline, so when the timeline that her father and his people had lived in was naturally cauterized, their vessel could turn off the field and emerge intact into the undamaged one on the other side of the subspace corridor. Truth was, they only had to survive a single nanosecond beyond the temporal reset to avoid erasure, but the nature of the corridor made it dicey to reemerge inside one. A surer bet was to remain in the field till the ship was back in normal space, and then turn the thing off, so that was the plan. From what Jomala could tell the Suliban were keeping their word. Finally, Silik's head rose from the pad. "Ah, Miss Tucker, good evening."

"Good evening. I just came down here for a report on your progress," Jomala explained simply. She didn't want to offend Silik, even though she knew no matter how offended he became, he'd still do as he'd been instructed.

"Everything is right on schedule. The schematics do take a while to absorb, but it's nothing we can't handle," Silik reported, part of him disgusted at the idea of reporting to the girl. He led the entire Suliban Cabal. He took orders from seven centuries in the future, and was always the first of his people to receive enhancement. Yet here he was bowing to an unenhanced hybrid child. It was humiliating, and yet he also knew the humiliation could be endured. When his benefactor had given him his assignment, Silik had voiced these indignities, and had been rewarded with a glimpse of future knowledge. If this child succeeded, it would be her own life that would be prematurely forfeited, after she had lived past her necessary contributions to the timeline, but still decades earlier than the event had originally occurred. Not to mention, the death would be gruesome. After all, her murderers would be relicts from Earth's violent past.


	25. Chapter 25: Future Lessons

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This chapter starts out during the events of E2, however is mostly set during the events of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan. Again, this story is branching into AU territory, but I am attempting to keep as much of canon as stable as possible. I know a lot of fans aren't too big on that, but for me, the stability of canon is a big deal. However, some mistakes are too great to ignore.

**Living Beyond**

Part 23

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Lorian Tucker moved through E deck with a lifetime of certainty. The ship had changed a lot since his boyhood, but its basic layout had remained constant. He could navigate every room completely blind and deaf. He had thirty years ago, but luckily his senses had been returned to him once the virus that had left him in that condition had been neutralized and corrective surgery performed. Suddenly, as he rounded sub junction B, Lorian stopped mid-stride, his eyes widening. He didn't know where he was, but he knew he wasn't on Enterprise and lying on the deck, six meters ahead of him were two still bodies, one human, the other of a species Lorian had read a lot about in his childhood but had never actually met any member of, an Andorian. Quickly, he pulled himself out of shock and methodically checked for signs of life from either, realizing in seconds that both were dead. He hadn't expected either to be living; the Andorian throat was cut, and his body, near completely exsanguinated, while the human's head was at a very odd angle that suggested a broken neck. "What is going on? Where am I?"

"You're on a Federation Science Station in the year 2285. Everyone aboard is being massacred by a group of genetically enhanced humans who survived the Eugenics wars and escaped Earth," Daniels explained gravely as he approached the outwardly calm man who knelt by the bodies.

"Then why don't you stop them?" Lorian asked, his emotions coming to the surface. Daniels was doing nothing in the middle of a bloodbath.

"This event has to happen. It's part of history," Daniels explained sadly. He wished he could stop the madman Khan, but he knew he had to let this event complete itself.

"Then what's the point of bringing me here?" Lorian asked, struggling for his Vulcan control. Allowing a laugh or even a P.O.'d glare manifest was one thing, but the ancient Vulcan call to battle was pounding in his head, and he had to control it, lest he loose himself to the chaos and join in this hellish disaster.

"Follow me," Daniels instructed, leading Lorian into a large cargo hold. Bodies were strung up, obvious signs of torture on all the bodies surrounding him.

"I ask you again, Daniels, _WHY DID YOU BRING ME HERE_?!" Lorian howled, the gruesome sight one of the worst he'd seen in his 113 years of life. Suddenly, his eyes were caught by a puddle of green blood, and something instinctive began drawing him to it.

"For that," Daniels replied, his own unease written all over his face. His stomach was churning and he felt like throwing up, but he had to stay here, to do this. He had to ensure the future and he and his superiors had all come to the conclusion that this was the only means to get this man to listen, but knowing that, and watching the man inch his way to the equipment closet the pool of Vulcanoid blood was dribbling out of were too different things.

Opening the door, Lorian caught a body that immediately fell into his arms, a body, suffering exsanguination and a huge, gaping wound in the chest. Several other, non-lethal holes adorned the limbs, as if the individual had been tortured with a plasma drill, only being killed outright when their interrogator was finished with them. He fought looking at the face for as long as he could, but he knew he had to, had to acknowledge the lifeless body in his arms as a person, a person whose life was over.

Lorian couldn't breathe. He didn't want to breathe any more. He wanted to die here, didn't want to go on living with this knowledge. His baby daughter lay dead in his arms. He hadn't expected someone he knew; finding his own child was completely ungluing him. He couldn't talk; he couldn't think; he could only rock and shake, his eyes glued to Jomala's lifeless ones. She looked even more like his wife now, at the age of 148, but the slightly lighter variant of brown that were his mother's eyes, her pointed ears, and the infamous Tucker nose gave her away. His baby was dead, brutally murdered, and all he could do was rock and shake, and not breathe.

A gentle hand rubbed his back, and his lungs expelled their contents, picking up their long held rhythm on instinct. A far away voice penetrated his shock "Lorian, this can be changed! This doesn't have to be!"

After a moment, Lorian looked up at Daniels, venom in his eyes. Right now, he couldn't understand how Jonathan Archer had come to trust this man. Still he had to fight his revulsion if he was to discover how to save his daughter. He wouldn't take this man at his word, but he would listen to whatever he had to say. Somehow he would save his child's future. Nobody deserved to die like it appeared his daughter would. "How?"

"In the original timeline, Jomala never came to this station. In fact, she wrote several letters of protest to the Federation Council to try to sink the project before it reached stage three. She saw the danger it posed in the wrong hands, when everyone else saw only benefit and an end to hunger and overcrowding throughout the galaxy. Look, in this time period, there is a test every Star Fleet officer must take before graduating; it's called the Kobayashi Maru, and it determines a potential officer's ability to deal with a no win situation. If Jomala finds a way to prevent the natural healing of the timeline in regards to your ship, she will never have faced a no win scenario. From engine design to starship building to circuitry improvements, most of her career is one success upon another. As a result she never learns to loose, and even develops a bit of a god complex. While I can't go into the specifics of the project these people were working on, I can tell you that unless she has learned the consequences of loss, unless she has faced her own vulnerability and limitation, she will not see the folly of this work, and find this place, this project, irresistible. She will be here when this massacre occurs, and she will learn at the point of a plasma drill that she is not a god," Daniels explained, pointing to the wounds on the older version of Jomala's body, trying to prove to the man before him that his daughter had a chance, even if the rest of these people didn't. Still, his mind was on several others, some from this time, some from before it, who would be forced to learn that very same lesson this day, on this very station; the universe had obviously lectured to a full classroom of great and infamous men and women here on Regula I.


	26. Chapter 26: Alarm Clock

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This chapter of the story takes place shortly before and during the events of 'E2'. However, most of this story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. Again, this story is branching into AU territory, but I am attempting to keep as much of canon as stable as possible. I know a lot of fans aren't too big on that, but for me, the stability of canon is a big deal. However, some mistakes are too great to ignore.

**Living Beyond**

Part 24

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Balasara woke suddenly to the sound of an alarm going off in her temporary quarters. Quickly she scurried out of the lower bunk, finding the small device Jomala had left her. She fumbled with it, the wailing refusing to cease. Jomala had called it a temporal scanner; Balasara looked at the digital clock in her quarters, which read 23:45, and called it a justification for fratricide.

Amitana looked down at her sister below, watching her with half-awake eyes. Also loosing her patience, she smacked the intercom on the wall by her pillow, and opened a link. "Ami to Jo, the scanner you gave us just went off. Bala's trying to turn it off, and not having much success. Get your butt down here and stop the wailing. I need my beauty sleep."

"I'm on my way," Jomala replied urgently.

"Make it quick," Amitana answered over the roar of the alarm.

"I'm at the door; let me in," Jomala replied, a hard sigh suggesting she ran all the way from wherever she was.

Balasara pushed the panel by the side of the door, and Jomala rushed in, quickly silencing the alarm.

"Thank you! What the heck was that thing, anyway?" Amitana asked indignantly.

"It's something my older self reverse engineered from the schematics both Enterprises have on the spheres throughout the Expanse. It's mostly a modified communicator that transmits data through the higher bands of subspace. This one tracks any signals sent from either the past or the future to the present within a half a deck of space. It's not very powerful; it can't gage the type of signal. It can't discern whether or not the signal is a message or decipher it if it is. It can't even tell me whether the signal is coming from the past or the future. My older self believed the Spherebuilder's version can do all that, and according to a personal log of Captain Archer's, people in Daniels time make these in high school," Jomala griped. Playing the ludite didn't suit her.

"So being a temporal anarchist isn't as easy as you thought it would be, huh kid?" Amitana smirked. She loved Jomala dearly, but the girl could get a bit full of herself. She had every right to be. She was a certified genius, but it was still nice to know some things were beyond her grasp.

"Nothing worth doing ever is," Jomala responded, fighting her rising frustration with the scanner, as she tried to measure the energy output it had detected. Knowing how much power was detected could hint at what type it was and what it was used for. The scanner was primitive, but it was all she had. She'd put it together while Father's ship traveled between Kotook and the corridor. The schematics had been straight forward enough, and Father had given her access to the parts room on Enterprise when she was twelve, with the warning that nothing was to leave the ship without authorization. Her personal engineering tricorder, a broken, old communicator, some simple copper filaments, and two hours had produced the devise she now studied. There had definitely been a signal, sent from this deck, subjunction B, several minutes ago. Its intensity could indicate a transport of some kind, but what or who was taken and where and when was a complete mystery. She needed help.

Jomala moved to the door, and hit the com button. "Jomala to Karyn Archer."

"What can I do you for you at this late hour, Jo?" Karyn Archer replied wearily from the bridge. Her shift was ending in a few minutes and then she was off to bed. At 0:800 tomorrow, they'd see her Great Grandfather's Enterprise off to his meeting with the Xindi Council, and she would be needed on the bridge by 0:500 to help with the final tests of the Warp 6.9 engine. That left her just under five hours of down time, so she knew she should at least try to rest as soon as she left the bridge. She'd been up for over 38 hours already. Sleep was looking pretty good right now. However, Karyn also knew young Jomala preferred to do for herself, mostly to keep the adults out of her hair and not give them the opportunity to tell her no to whatever she was planning, so if she was calling the bridge for assistance, it must be important.

"Can you check the internal sensors and see if anybody on our ship is missing? One of my scanners recorded what looks like a transport in subjunction B, here on E deck, ten minutes ago," Jomala asked, hoping Karyn would do as asked.

This piqued Karyn's curiosity and she motioned for Chang, the night shift's tactical officer, to examine the sensor logs. What the man found nearly made his eyes bug out. "Karyn, Captain Lorian's not on board, nor is he on Archer's ship. It's like he completely vanished!"

Not wanting to upset the Captain's family, but also knowing Jomala would most certainly get under foot if she wasn't told, Karyn opened a com link. "Jo, bring your scanner to the bridge. You're father has gone missing."

"Yes, Ma'am," Jomala replied, slipping into her childhood response to her father's officers.

"Father! That bastard, Daniels, erased Father already! Why?!" Amitana howled, her lethargy replaced with fear that she would never see her father again.

"Relax, Ami. Daniels never erased anyone; the resetting of the timeline did that, and the timeline won't reset till Captain Archer passes the point where he meets up with Degra's ship and continue on to the Xindi council. Up until that moment, there's still a chance Archer will use the corridor, get trapped in the past, and everything will happen again as it did before. So long as that window remains open, the timeline is, for lack of a better descriptive, holding its breath. Daniels needs Father alive to ensure Archer gets to the meeting with Degra, so he won't harm him. Most likely he took father forward or backwards through time, for what reason I can only guess. He'll bring him back shortly, for whatever he's got planned. Now, I have to meet with Karyn. Don't worry. We can handle this," Jomala replied, calming her sisters, before leaving their quarters.


	27. Chapter 27: Grief and Renewal

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This chapter of the story takes place shortly before and during the events of 'E2'. However, most of this story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. Again, this story is branching into AU territory, but I am attempting to keep as much of canon as stable as possible. I know a lot of fans aren't too big on that, but for me, the stability of canon is a big deal. However, some mistakes are too great to ignore.

**Living Beyond**

Part 25

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

Matayara tensed the second her husband stumbled into his quarters. The grief and pain in his eyes were beyond anything she'd ever seen in him, and as long as she lived, she'd never forget the expression he wore upon his return to Kotook, after 22 members of his crew, 5 of them children, were sucked out into the Expanse after an anomaly mauled his ship 47 years ago. This went far beyond even that, and for a moment Matayara feared for her children, then her for her Second Parents, and finally for Jonathan Archer. They were the only people she knew, besides herself, who could provoke this level of pain in Lorian, and only if they were no longer within the living realm. Her previous plans for the evening were quickly abandoned, as she leapt to her feet and embraced him, feeling the salt water tears stingingly splash against her skin as he shook and clung to her for dear life.

Ten minutes later, her mate's sobs finally eased enough for him to take direction and she sat them both down on his bunk. Reclining against the bulkhead that substituted for a headboard, she pulled him against her, hoping to relax him enough to talk. "What happened?"

"Daniels took me to the future, 2285. He showed me… Jo's death…" Lorian stopped, nuzzling his brow into the hollow of his wife's neck, holding her tightly as the images he remembered assailed him again.

"By all that is holy and just! Oh Lorian!" Matayara exclaimed, rocking her love in her arms. 2285! That was too soon. According to every doctor she'd ever seen, Jo's DNA suggested a lifespan comparable to a Vulcan, eight or nine decades beyond 2285!

"It was gruesome, Mata, barbarity beyond reason. She was… tortured!" Lorian sobbed again, desperately trying to eject the image from his head. He couldn't go into details. He had to at least protect his wife from that.

Matayara suddenly felt her throat clamp up and started to cough violently, as the visions of carnage passed through the psychic bond she sometimes shared with Lorian.

Unlike a full Vulcan, Lorian's telepathy was weak, and while the years had left a low hum of each other's presence in the back of one another's mind, the Aplacian brain could not sustain anything stronger. Phlox had told them once, before their marriage, that while the human brain was not naturally telepathic, it could easily sustain a telepathic link initiated by another. The neural structure of an Aplacian's brain worked against long term telepathic contact. Despite this fact, in extreme circumstances, when wrapped so close, images or sounds could pass, especially when they were powerful enough to drive all other thoughts away from her mate's consciousness. Now she saw what Lorian had been shown and her airway was completely obstructed, as she fought the choking coughs that wouldn't give her a moment to breath.

"Mata! Mata! Calm down!" Lorian grabbed his wife firmly, rubbing her back as he'd learned to do decades ago. He'd never seen her cough this forcefully, and he knew it was possible for an Aplacian to loose consciousness from a particularly strong coughing fit, due to oxygen depravation. It wasn't fatal, or even that dangerous, baring the individual didn't suffer injury due to the fall, but how was he to explain what had happened in sickbay without embarrassing his wife?

"I'm okay. I'm okay. I just need to stand for a moment. I'm okay," Matayara stated between coughs. Her Second Mother had taught her how to get her emotions under control, and the truth was she couldn't bare seeing Doctor Phlox again, for a coughing fit, and she'd seen him in the hallway less than two hours ago. He'd told her he was spending the evening with his descendant, Jamal, who was CMO of her husband's ship, and going over all the new and fascinating discoveries that had been made in 117 years. The humiliation of having him give her a shot of triox and attempt to soothe her like a child forced her to take control of her fear and pain. Using her legs helped too, and finally she was able to breath without hindrance.

"That will not happen. I swear to you, Mata, I will not let Jo… I will not let that happen to Jo. I know the year it's supposed to happen. I can stop it," Lorian began, refusing to believe his youngest child was doomed to such a horrible fate. A part of him mercilessly mocked him, reminding him that he'd had the date and place of his Aunt Elizabeth's death as well, and he'd been unable to save her or the other 7 million lives the first Xindi probe took, but Lorian forced himself to banish the doubt from his mind.

If necessary, he would kidnap Jomala and keep her locked up during the entire year of 2285. She would hate him for it, but he could not bear to loose her, and to do that he had to live to 2285. He knew, as much as he loved his daughters, he couldn't lay this burden at their feet. 'Make your baby sister hate you, but abduct her and hold her hostage an entire year, whilst evading whatever forces this United Federation of Planets can throw at you, a law enforcement agency that would have all the skills and abilities of dozens of races behind it. He thought of the irony, Daniels had sought to convince him to give up, but now he was only more resolved to live.

"We can stop it, Lorian, as a family," Matayara stated firmly. She placed her husband's hand on her waist, right above her hip, pressing his palm into her side. This morning, in the shower, she'd been stunned to find the harden ridge that signified she was fertile. She hadn't ovulated in over a decade. Jomala had been a late baby, and that should have been that, but her body had different ideas now, if she and Lorian chose to avail themselves of them in the next 24 hours.

This morning, she'd decided it was a biological fluke, and she would just ignore it, not even mention it to her husband, as despite the current situation, she was too contented with her life as is. Jomala had been her last baby, and now she was looking forward to the first grandchildren. Her eldest three were already of marrying age, and within a decade, her youngest would be as well. Aplacian traditions might delay their starting their own families, but she had raised her girls to look farther afield to find a lifemate, if necessary. Backwater thinking wouldn't hold them down and Matayara had always known she'd someday hold grandchildren. Now, she was proposing starting all over again, but the more she considered it, another baby might just save the life of all her children, of her husband, of everything she'd been building for over 84 years since she'd first met Lorian.

"Mata, you can't be serious!" was Lorian's only reply, that and the stunned look on his face.


	28. Chapter 28: A Logical Proposal

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

UPDATE: When I originally posted this chapter, I put Jo's age at 14. However, I just realized this, in rereading and I'm fixing the error. Jo is 16 at the time of E-Squared and 17 at the time of 'Babel One'. The reason I previously put her at 14 was that I was looking over my story ideas a few days ago, which included one where we see Enterprises launch in 'Broken Bow' from Lorian's crews' perspective. Lorian and his people held a massive party, watching the live Star Fleet transmission of Forest's speech in the mess hall, and Jomala, her mother, and sisters were all in attendance. THERE she was 14. She aged with the series.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This chapter of the story takes place during the events of 'E2'. However, most of this story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. Again, this story is branching into AU territory, but I am attempting to keep as much of canon as stable as possible. I know a lot of fans aren't too big on that, but for me, the stability of canon is a big deal. However, some mistakes are too great to ignore.

**Living Beyond**

Part 26

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

"Think, Lorian. According to the information Jo sent to herself in her journal, Daniels and his people temporally stabilized not only Jo, but Mara, Ami, Bala and I, because he didn't see us as a threat to his timeline. He's working to prevent the Suliban's plan to stabilize all of us because he fears the historical changes that will result from the decedents of your crew merely living their lives as they choose. If he and his people can't accommodate the ones already aboard Enterprise, he's almost certainly never factored another baby for us into his equations. Effectively we would invalidate every bit of information he's working with, possibly including that horrible scenario he showed you. A new baby redistributes Jo's place in our family, and gives her responsibilities and experiences she was never meant to have in the timeline Daniels desires. Daniel's main objective is to prevent change to Jo's future. A younger sister would be fundamental change for her," Matayara explained, hoping she was right.

She knew Daniels was determined, but from what both Enterprises had on these Temporal Accords, she also knew the Temporal Agents had rules that they had to follow. Jo was nearly hysterical with fear, so much so that she believed that Daniels and his comrades were lawless, but her mother saw things differently. Ethically there was a distinct difference between letting someone die of a natural processes in the timeline and killing them in cold blood. All Enterprises' evidence from past encounters with the man suggested that Daniels' and his colleagues wouldn't cross that line.

And while it was true Daniels might make another incursion into the past to try and iron out his mistakes, Archer's records indicated that the annoying temporal agent's window to change the past was limited, as the new, altered timeline would catch up with and replace his own, as it did when he had taken Archer into the 31st century and ended up in barren ruin that had once been Earth, an Earth that had been lost due to Archer's loss centuries before. Studying Daniels error then had taught Matayara that the ability to travel through time didn't give you unlimited opportunities to alter history. A new baby for the Tucker family, along with the devices the Suliban were constructing aboard her husband's ship to stabilize his crew, could stymie Daniels' efforts long enough for the timeline that favored their family to assert itself to the point where Daniels would just have to live with the changes, or perhaps even one where Daniels himself wouldn't exist at all.

As much as that thought would solve many of her problems, and as angry as she was with the man who had so decimated her husband and children's spirits in just a few short days, she found no joy in the idea of potentially sacrificing Daniels' life. However, the alternative was to sacrifice her husbands and his people. That alternative was unthinkable.

"Or Daniels might decide to neutralize Jo's baby sister, along with the temporally insignificant woman carrying her," Lorian postulated grimly, sitting back down on his bunk. He loved being a father, and if he truly believed Matayara's plan was airtight, he'd take her in his arms this second. She had always enthralled him, sometimes beyond reason, but today would not be one of those days. He couldn't bear loosing her, especially if she was carrying another of his children.

"And leave Jo an orphan at the age of 16? That would certainly impact Jo's future tremendously," Matayara countered.

"If we both died here and now, my parents would be badgering Captain Archer to formally transfer Jo's custody over to them before our bodies were cold. There's no evidence that your demise would have any serious impact to Daniels' desired timeline. If so, your death would be for nothing, and I won't allow you to take that risk," Lorian replied, internally conceding that his wife had a point, but unwilling to acknowledge it verbally.

"Then what do you suggest?" Matayara asked in exasperation. While it was true he definitely had a say in whether or not they conceived again, she also knew that not doing so played right into the hands of the man who wanted to harm her family.

"Doing whatever it takes to survive long enough to see 2285. As much as I hate the idea, teaming up with the Suliban Cabal was the right move. They have far more experience fighting this temporal cold war than we do, even more than Captain Archer does," Lorian replied, sitting back down on his bunk.

"They're also untrustworthy. We have no idea what their puppeteer wants from us, what timeline he's trying to promote. Jo is as vital to him as she is to Daniels, but who's to say your erasure and that of your crew doesn't also suit his ends? Our baby would throw his timeline into chaos as surely as she would Daniels'. We would be writing our family's history ourselves, not leaving it in the hands of persons with far more advanced technology and their own agendas," Matayara stated, placing her cool fingers on either side of her husband's head and gently massaging the neural nodes that would prevent him from getting the headache she could see threatening on the horizon, by the stiffness in Lorian's shoulders and lower neck.

"If you don't stop that, I'll pass out from exhaustion here and now, and that would completely derail all of our plans," Lorian commented, the simple posture Matayara's fingers were working, making him drowsy. Usually he was grateful when his wife helped him with his insomnia, but with everything coming down the pike, he needed to remain awake and alert for at least the next 24 hours. He was already fighting his weary muscles and battered spirit to remain awake. He didn't need to fight his endocrine system too. Tomorrow he'd have the rest of his life to sleep. Today he had to help save the galaxy, and keep his family and crew alive and temporally cohesive.

"After 83 years of marriage, I can tell when you're getting a headache," Matayara replied, wrapping her arms around Lorian's neck and pulling his back against her body. As base as it might be, she hoped instilling physical comfort, then desire, in her husband might help sway him to her point of view. However, Lorian was too disciplined and clever to respond to a blatant seduction. Just sitting snugly like this, her arms around his midsection, her cheek pressed against his upper back was as far as she dared to go without setting off alarms in him.

"I'm really glad you're here, Mata," Lorian sighed, absently patting the hand that lay flat against the upper part of his stomach.

"I'll always be there when you need me. You know that," Matayara replied, threading her fingers with Lorian's, and nuzzling his shoulder with her forehead.

The two remained silent several more minutes before Lorian spoke again. "Part of my resistance to your… proposal, it's... Well, you of all people know how intelligent Jo is. Hell, with Daniels current involvement, half the Expanse seems to know, but despite her abilities, she's still so… young, so undisciplined. My father told me over dinner break that Jo was calling herself a 'temporal anarchist' now. She still needs us, Mata. You know how much work a new baby takes. We couldn't provide the same level of attention for Jo as we do now, and it's already hard enough keeping up with her as is."

"I hate to say this, considering we once swore we'd separate the births of our children so that none of them would ever wind up saddled with inappropriate care giving responsibilities, but in this case maybe those responsibilities are just what Jo needs. I'm not suggesting we dump her and the baby on Kotook and run off together, but warming bottles and giving baths would slow down her mad technological rush, give her time to add some wisdom to her intellect," Matayara argued, having thought of this earlier this afternoon.

"Changing diapers, day in and day out, does have a way of maturing a person, that's true," Lorian quipped, earning a smile from his wife.

"Worked for us," Matayara replied, smiling at the memory of an infant Maranda, splayed out on the changing table, the most hideous stench Matayara and her husband had ever encountered in both their lives drifting upwards, as they both suddenly realized in horror that old Phlox had left sickbay and was nowhere in sight to assist them. They'd both grown up more in that moment than in the 10 months previous.

"Remember that baby sweater the Drenadian ambassador gave us," Lorian reminisced, amusement filling him.

"And Ami removed it while alone in her crib, consumed the fibers, and had purple goo coming out of her for the next three weeks!" Mata peeled with laughter remembering the shock on her husband's face when he'd first seen the contents of that diaper upon returning to Kotook from one of his missions.

"Phlox took one look at the diaper, shook his head, and said…"

"Well, she's a Tucker!" Matayara howled, unable to remain upright, and fighting for control of her bladder.

Suddenly her husband sobered, and she could virtually feel the sudden sadness in him. "He died less than a year later. Save mother, he was the last of Archer's crew. Mother took it especially hard."

"So did you," Matayara reminded her husband, knowing that given half the chance he'd foist the loss onto his mother or his crewmates, denying his own pain. To most familiar with both species of her husband's origin, one would assume it was a Vulcan tactic, to distance himself from his emotions, but Matayara knew exactly where it had came from, the very human Jonathan Archer. He'd taught Lorian well to take up his mantle as captain, too well in some ways.

"Yeah, well, he'd had a long life, if not an easy one," Lorian commented, allowing his emotional suppression techniques to assert themselves. Unlike his mother, he only needed to use them sporadically, when he sensed he was about to become overwhelmed. They'd failed him earlier in 2285, but the shock there had been sudden and, for the most part, unexpected. Phlox's loss had fermented in him for decades, and was relatively simple to bypass after all these years.

"He was a good man… is a good man. This language situation is turning out to be quite challenging," Matayara commented.

"Tell me about it. I think Jo's about to blow an injector, but then again, she's taken it upon herself to keep an eye on the Suliban and their work, so she has to deal with it a lot more. She says they're keeping up their end of the bargain," Lorian informed his wife.

"It's in their benefactor's best interests to do so, for the time being. However, I don't like depending on their 'charity'. They're too unpredictable. And I especially don't like my child around them so much of the time," Matayara reiterated her concerns. She knew their mutual nostalgia only pressed her point of having another child. Lorian loved babies. It was well known he spent some of his downtime in Enterprises' nursery, rocking infants whose parents were on duty. However the turn towards Phlox had brought her husband back to a defensive position, one where a child merely meant another front to guard in their part of the temporal cold war. Phlox and Archer's crew had passed away, most of old age, forgotten by time. Now, all that remained of them was in jeopardy of being erased permanently by Daniels. Her own children were viewed as a necessary evil, due to what her youngest could provide history. So long as Lorian was on the defensive and unwilling to attack Daniels timeline with another baby, their family would continue to loose ground.

"I don't either, but Jo is best suited to monitor them. Both who she is now and who she is a year from now, have been hard at work reverse engineering some of the Spherebuilders' technology. She at least understands what the Suliban device is going to do, and how it should be constructed. None of my people, nor my fathers, are as knowledgeable in this area. And both my mothers are preoccupied with the refit at the moment. The meeting with Degra has to take precedence over our current situation," Lorian explained, again feeling a slight sting of disappointment at having been rebuffed by both T'Pols when he'd asked each to keep an eye on the Suliban device. Even with both crews working on the refit and repair of Archer's Enterprise, both T'Pols had every last minute scheduled till they were under way to meet Degra. Neither of his mothers would alter their plans when Jomala was fully capable of doing the job. He understood their logic, but his human half and the father in him resented it.

"Then we should let them deal with the rendezvous with Degra and make our own future here," Matayara stated firmly, wrapping her arms around Lorian's neck and pressing herself against him.

Carefully she watched her mate's face. Most saw only the Vulcan mask, but she knew every nuance, every tiny muscle movement around his eyes or at his brow gave her information about what was going on in his mind. He saw her logic, but a part of him couldn't believe the simplicity of the solution. To them it would merely be a matter of conception. The timeline would do the rest for them in the near term, and they'd raised 4 daughters before this one, so it wasn't like this plan would take them to uncharted territory. Yet she also saw his hesitancy at the idea of bringing a child into the universe as it was, the Xindi conflict, the danger to Earth, merely symptomatic of greater problems, problems Daniels' Federation promised to fix in unifying many of the combatant races in common cause, and giving refuge and identity to those like her children and her husbands' hybrid crew. All the data needed to arrange itself and Matayara was patient while it did so.

Finally, she saw decision in her husband's eyes, and he relaxed against her, pressing his forehead to his own, and a gentle kiss to her lips. "Are you sure, Mata?"

"Yes," was all Matayara could say before her husband covered her mouth again, this time more insistant, and she allowed herself to loose herself in physical sensation.


	29. Chapter 29: Consideration

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. I make no money off this story, only a tremendous sense of self worth.

AUTHORESS' NOTE: This chapter of the story takes place during the events of 'E2'. However, most of this story takes place during the forth season of Enterprise, after 'Observer Effect' but before 'Babel One'. Again, this story is branching into AU territory, but I am attempting to keep as much of canon as stable as possible. I know a lot of fans aren't too big on that, but for me, the stability of canon is a big deal. However, some mistakes are too great to ignore.

**Living Beyond**

Part 27

By Arianwen P.F. Everett

The first thing Jomala Tucker became aware of as she slowly regained consciousness, was the unmistakable smell of coffee. However, this wasn't the blander aroma that she was used to. This was far more pungent, as if the beans had been grown, not replicated.

Suddenly it all came back to her. She was on Archer's Enterprise, her father's time line having finally caught up with his old mentors, but if she was to save her father and his crew, she couldn't afford to sleep. She had to check on the Suliban!

Jumping to her feet, Jomala found her way blocked by her grandfather who had rushed to place himself between her and the door, upon her waking up in what she now realized was the crash bunk in the chief engineer's alcove. "Sit back down, Missy. You need to eat, and your father asked me to keep an eye on ya till the morning briefing. Here."

Looking down, Jomala found a small plate with two slices of toasted raisin bread. Her stomach grumbled loudly at the smell.

"That's what I thought. How long has it been since you last ate, anyway? Or slept for that matter?

"Ate, 15 hours. Slept, not counting a few minutes ago, 28 hours," Jomala answered innocently. She knew that for a human or Aplacian her age that was far too long to go between meals or REM cycles, but her anatomy was primarily Vulcan, so she had been confident that she'd be good for another 20 hours beyond that, more than she needed to see Archer's ship to the rendezvous with Degra. Obviously she'd overestimated her stamina.

"Kelby found ya slumped over the intermix terminal about three hours ago. I dumped ya here, figured you needed the rest before the big show," Trip explained, as he poured himself a cup of coffee, and chucked a juice carton at Jo who caught it automatically.

"I'm 16 years old. I don't need a babysitter," Jomala stated firmly, taking her first bite of the raisin bread.

"That's not what your parents think, and I'm more inclined to trust their judgment on such matters, so… for the next twenty minutes you're stuck with me," Trip jibed, a smirk lighting his face as he watched the girl in front of him. She had the same scowl his mother had whenever she heard news she didn't particularly like. Lizzie had had that scowl as well. Odd that an expression he used to dread as a boy could bring him tremendous peace now, but it did. Part of Lizzie went on.

Jomala sighed. "I appreciate your concern, Grandfather, but I have to check in with Silik. We need to coordinate…"

"The Captain's handlin' Silik. You just concentrate on finishing your breakfast," Trip instructed, settling down into his chair to scan some data.

"Captain Archer is an exceptional man, but he's not an engineer. He doesn't know what to look for in the Suliban's device," Jomala explained, running a hand through her curly, dark hair.

"But he knows what to look for in the Suliban, or more precisely in Silik. It's a fool's bet to underestimate Captain Archer, and if what I've heard about you is true, you're anything but a fool. Warp 9.9… wow," Trip gushed. He had wanted to keep the firm, but kind, disciplinarian routine going, but found he couldn't the more he thought about that engine that would someday grace another Enterprise.

"Warp factors are easy to overcome, if you only deal in the theoretical. Problem is, most people get overly caught up in the whole ship flying apart bit, and don't take the formulas to their natural conclusion. The fact that I'll be able to keep a ship in one piece at that speed, without the crew being compressed into flaming, organic goo, is what mystifies me," Jomala explained, having considered her destiny often these past few days.

"Ya, well, regardless, I just want ya to know, I'm proud of you," Trip said, a smile proving his claim. Still, he was taken aback by the girl's assertion that warp factors were 'easy'. He'd never met anyone who thought sifting through all those variables at once was 'easy', except possibly T'Pol. Perhaps it was a Vulcan thing. If it was, it must have skipped a generation, as from the brief time he'd worked with him yesterday afternoon, Trip had seen that, like himself, Lorian was more drawn to the mechanics and kenetics of engineering than the theoretical physics. Then again, it might also be something Jomala got from her mother. He didn't really know anything about his daughter-in-law or her people except that her name was Matayara and that Lorian and their kids adored her, which automatically made her alright in Trip's book.

Jomala was far less contented, particularly at the praise. She had to wonder who would be proud of her if her actions here really did cause disaster decades or centuries hence. "What… what if what Daniels says is true, and I wind up harming or killing untold numbers of innocent people in the future, by saving Daddy and his crew now? Would you still be proud of me?"

"Jomala, I believe you need to live in the now. If you feel morally conflicted, then you need to reexamine your plans, but working around what Daniels says the future is supposed to be certainly isn't right. I've seen John do that a few times and to be honest, it's never sat well with me," Trip explained, thinking back on the times Jonathan Archer and his crew had dealt with Crewman Daniels.

"Yeah, but Captain Archer's destiny is to build a great utopia, where everyone is equal and safe and has a fair shot to achieve their dreams, at least that's what all the stories I've heard say. My destiny is technological, so its relevance is determined by how what I discover is utilized. Daniels insinuated that my work will better many lives, delivering the blessings of Archer's Federation to untold numbers of people, but that same technology, under changed circumstances, could be used to cause as much death and destruction as Archer's Federation would prevent. I don't want to be responsible for that, but I've read what I become without father, in those journals, and… I wasn't a very good person in that timeline," Jomala confessed, still totally disbelieving that she could work for Orion slavers in any timeline.

"Grief does crazy things to people. I've said and done things this past year, since my sister was killed, that I never thought I could do, so has your Grandmother. I'm sure your father has made his mistakes. Heck, even Jonathan Archer, the great utopia builder, has proven himself to have feet of clay once or twice," Trip explained, his mind drifting to the other him, Sim, who lived his entire life and died, while he lay comatose in Sickbay, all by Archer's order. Trip knew his old friend hadn't had a choice, but that didn't make it easier for any of them, the man who profited most directly from the clone's death, included.

"Yes. How do you know…"

"You don't. You do the best you can, and accept the consequences. Your journals have given you insight most people would kill for. You know what road not to take. Now you have to find a better one. That's all you can do," Trip advised, praying she'd make the right choices and everything would turn out right. She was just a kid. This all seemed too much for someone her age to bear.

"I can see why Grandmother chose you for her mate. You are very wise, regardless of your reputation for emotionality. Most Vulcans would sell their souls for that balance," Jomala stated, smiling, feeling lighter than she had in days. Her grandfather was everything her father had said he was, and he made her feel as safe, trusted, and capable as her father had always had.

"So you're saying T'Pol was just after my wisdom? That explains the brush off…" Trip joked, making Jomala giggle.

"No, she loves you. I know my grandmother loved her Trip. I'm sure your T'Pol loves you, but she can't trust herself with displaying her feelings. I mean, with the Panar Syndrome and the Trillium addiction thing, she never knows for sure if she's opening a floodgate she might not be able to close later, so whenever she has a Panar flare-up, she locks herself away from everyone till she's got a handle on it. The first time I saw it was when I was six years old. I thought I'd done something wrong and she was angry with me, but Father explained it. He said, "She always comes back, like Earth flowers in the spring. You just have to be patient, is all," Jomala explained, trying to sound wise like her Father had when she was little and still thought him a great sage.

"Panar Syndrome?" Trip asked, trying to sound casual, even as a cold chill ran down his spine. If T'Pol were ill, particularly in a way that made her loose control of her emotions, she'd do her darndest to hide away in her quarters and shield the crew, and him, from her illness.

The look on Jomala's face was only confusion at his question. Obviously the girl had believed he would know what she was talking about. It made sense, considering Jomala was born into an established family, where everyone knew everything about each other's health and wellbeing. The fact that her grandmother would hide a medical condition from her future husband must seem inconceivable to the girl, as she already saw himself and T'Pol as a family unit.

As if the discussion about herself had drawn her down to engineering, T'Pol entered Commander Tucker's office, barely raising her eyes as she scanned a datapad and walked on autopilot at the same time.

Tucker, however, saw her as plain as day, truly saw her for the first time in several weeks. "T'Pol, what is Panar Syndrome?"


End file.
